This is the perfect lead-in to the New Testament, considering its obsession with the Old Testament, and that's the best way to introduce the Gospel of Matthew.
It begins with the first of two genealogies in the gospels, which is something that both reflects a classic element of the Old Testament as well as prove that Jesus was descended from the house of David, which was one of the many prophesies this gospel seems intent to point out as fulfilled.
It has a nativity sequence, featuring Joseph's doubts, the wise men, the wicked Herod, the flight to Egypt (of course!).
Then a shift to John the Baptist. We'll talk more about him a little later, but given the emphasis Reza Aslan put on him in Zealot, I can't help but see the Baptist in a different light. He's always been prominent in Christian lore, but as Aslan depicts him, he was actually a pretty big deal in his day, to the point where he threatened to eclipse Jesus even after his ministry and crucifixion. It's no wonder, then, that he keeps randomly appearing in this gospel.
He's the first one, by the way, in Matthew, to preach against corrupt religious leaders, a refrain Jesus enthusiastically picks up.
And then Jesus is baptized by him, of course.
Jesus then departs for the wilderness, where he stays for 40 days and is tempted by Satan. As with many elements of the Bible, this reads like an echo of how his ministry will end, so there's suffering at both ends.
His basic message is, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Although "his," I would argue, and I'll get back to this, isn't Jesus, but John the Baptist.
Jesus recruits Peter, Andrew, James, and John, the core and most famous apostles. He begins his ministry in earnest, curing people and teaching in synagogues. He delivers the Sermon on the Mount, which includes the Lord's Prayer (and the phrase "pearls before swine," which has since become the title of a delightful comic strip). He talks so much, it's exactly like all the prophets in the Old Testament.
A leper is cured. The centurion's servant is cured. Peter's mother is cured. There are exorcisms by the boatload. Jesus uses the phrase "Son of man." He calms the stormy sea. He cures the paralyzed man. He recruits Matthew, which begins the theme of the religious authorities challenging him that runs through the rest of the gospel. Not coincidentally, after this he cures a blind man and asks him not to talk about it. He realizes, perhaps, that he's doing everything necessary to provoke his bad end, but the time isn't right yet, so now he has to try and prevent word from continuing to spread. Except Jesus became human for a trap. And at least in Matthew he just keeps walking into them. He can't help himself.
The twelve apostles are named in full: Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas, Matthew, the other James, Thaddeus, Simon, and the notorious Judas Iscariot. At this point none of them has really done anything. Jesus sends them out to do the same stuff he's been doing.
John the Baptist is brought up again. He seems to need reassurance as to who Jesus is.
Jesus becomes increasingly anxious about his ministry. After he flat-out calls himself the Son of God, the religious authorities actively begin looking for ways to dispose of him. He keeps trying to keep a low profile.
Jesus alludes to his impending fate, but this talk increases as the danger increases.
Interestingly, the only other time Mary appears in this gospel she isn't even identified by name but rather in her blood relation to Jesus. And as he's asked his followers to do previously, Jesus distances himself from her.
There are a lot of parables. This reading is also the first time that I seriously considered the idea that he's really talking about himself in them. "Kingdom of heaven" is a way of referring to himself, then, like "Son of man." He's the last royal figure the world will ever truly need, then, which is majestically and then cruelly demonstrated later in the gospel.
But few people really seem to know who he was, in this gospel, before the ministry. "Is not this the carpenter's son?" He himself doesn't even have a reputation! Later, there's even talk that he's dismissed as a glutton and a drunk. Just what was Jesus doing for his first thirty years, anyway?
John the Baptist is executed. Like Jesus later he requires special justification and hand-ringing on the part of the figure who condemns him.
Jesus retreats after learning this news. He then feeds a multitude with a small amount of food for the first time. Then he walks on water.
He's also, however, growing increasingly frustrated. Quite remarkably, from this point on in the gospel, actually, Jesus can be described as quite frustrated indeed. It becomes his defining characteristic. It's also at this point that he shifts the focus of his ministry to the Gentiles (i.e. Not Jews). Previously he was quite insistent that he was coming to speak to Jews only, much like everyone in the Old Testament, and that everything that was old was new again. But in fact he's making that a very literal development.
He feeds a multitude with a small amount of food again.
He keeps invoking Jonah, too, especially the whole "three days" period. I suppose it's pretty obvious.
He makes it clear to his apostles who he is, and then tells them about what awaits him. Then Jesus performs the transfiguration, in which it's really obvious that he's more than human.
He keeps trying to explain himself. The religious authorities begin to test him openly. It's funny, though, and appropriate, that Jesus has a lot of compassion for his apostles, although he shares the Old Testament virtue of favoring humbleness. In the Old Testament, compassion was something often suggested but rarely practiced.
Palm Sunday occurs, the one time Jesus gets to enjoy what it's like to be apparently universally loved. Then he causes a scene in the temple. He's building the case against himself all by himself.
He becomes angry with a fig tree. But really he's becoming more nervous about actually experiencing what he's been headed toward all his life.
As if to emphasis the curious link I've been making, he challenges the religious authorities concerning the legacy of John the Baptist. So they decide to try and make it a Roman issue.
He talks about the end of days. Although, "he" I think doesn't actually refer to Jesus but John the Baptist. I know I'm going against classic theology again here, but the words he speaks at this point don't make any sense. They make much more sense if you suspect the author of this gospel to have also been drawing from the legacy of John the Baptist, remembering his ministry, and having gotten them a little jumbled. It would make sense. In the earliest days of the emerging Christianity, they were trying to figure out what it all meant. That was why they needed the gospel narratives. Matthew is not the earliest one, but it's clearly the one that concerned itself most with the old faith and the transition to the new one Jesus represented. John the Baptist is identified as Elijah here, one of the criteria for the coming of the messiah, which some of Jesus's own apostles think he embodies. All this talk about "within this generation" would certainly have sturdy qualifications if referring not to a second coming but the first appearance, the crucial ministry itself, and thus must necessarily come from the mouth of John the Baptist. Perhaps I will have further insight reading the other gospels.
Jesus is anointed by an anonymous woman, sometimes interpreted to be Mary Magdalene. But this is an action that has the same symbolic weight as the visit of the wise men at the start of this gospel.
Judas betrays him for 30 pieces of silver.
The Last Supper occurs with the classic elements for Catholic mass introduced. Jesus predicts Peter will deny him. He suffers his worst moment of the gospel in the garden of Gethsemane, his supreme moment of doubt. He's brought before the high priest. He's brought before Pilate. Pilate declares himself innocent. After the scourging Jesus receives mock royal treatment. Simon of Cyrene appears to help carry the cross. The two robbers are referenced (but neither has a redemptive moment in this gospel). Jesus is distraught on the cross. After his death, it's a centurion who figures out what just happened.
Those present at the crucifixion are identified as Mary Magdalene, plus a Mary who is described as the mother of James and Joseph (whoever they are), and also the mother of James and John, the apostles frequently referred to as the sons of Zebedee. Joseph of Arimathea asks Pilate for the body of Jesus. Mary Magdalene and "the other Mary" witness the resurrection, are later met by Jesus. The religious authorities, incredibly, still conspire against him, trying to discredit the resurrection. Jesus meets the remaining apostles on a mountain, asks them to spread the faith to all nations. At the end of this gospel, he's still among them.
Showing posts with label Egypt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Egypt. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Saturday, February 1, 2014
First Book of Maccabees 6-16, Second Book of Maccabees 1-15
As we pick First Maccabees back up, there's a lawless and ungodly man who wants to be high priest seeking favors from Rome, by speaking against Judas Maccabeus and his cause.
More talk of Rome, in relation to campaigns in Gaul and Spain. The modern world is emerging! Rome looks so good, Judas entreats peace from it. But after many spectacular military campaigns he dies in battle. "Now the rest of the acts of Judas, and his wars and the brave deeds that he did, and his greatness, have not been recorded, for they were very many." A statement that sounds a lot like how the Gospel of John ends.
There's a Canaanite wedding that turns into something else entirely.
Two remaining sons of Mattathias, Jonathan and Simon, succeed Judas, one after the other; so, similar success. Jonathan is so successful he wins peace and becomes a judge, real old school biblical, and then high priest.
Cleopatra is mentioned. This is one of the ways Egypt remains relevant to the biblical narrative well after Exodus.
Concerning Jonathan: "And when his accusers saw the honor that was paid him, in accordance with the proclamation, and saw him clothed in purple, they all fled."
It's lines like that that make it clear how Jesus in the New Testament was cannily presented in such a way that reflected as much Old Testament as possible, to make it clear the contrast and transition between them.
All the twists and turns of fortune make First Maccabees sound ripe for Shakespearean drama.
Jonathan ends up murdered in a slaughter. But this is okay, since pyramids are finally referenced in the Bible as a result (any modern individual automatically associates Egyptians with pyramids, so their absence in the Moses narrative will always be peculiar). "The land had rest all the days of Simon," who became high priest. But he still ends up killed in treachery. There are parallels here to Joseph among the Egyptians, the start of the Babylonian era, more of the parallels that exist all over the place.
There was was originally a continuation of this narrative in a chronicle of Simon's son John's time as high priest.
Judas Maccabeus is far less famous a biblical figure than just about anyone else in the Old Testament, and yet he is such a classic figure, comparable to anyone from Joshua to David. He would clearly have been a candidate for the prophesied messiah. But he's also a symbol of the futility of the old ways, even though he and his two brothers had such great success. There's even a line in there about prophets just as if that era was clearly not over, as if to make it clear he was no one's answer to the ultimate prophecy. Except in so many ways he clearly was, the last of the classical biblical figures. But if war were no longer the answer...
Second Maccabees is not a continuation but an apparently entirely separate account. It begins as a letter to Jews in Egypt. This is fitting in so many ways. Not the least because the New Testament would later end in a series of letters.
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Jeremiah, Solomon, and David are all invoked, but Nehemiah receives special emphasis for whatever reason.
Second Maccabees is apparently a condensed version of a five-volume account on the days of Judas Maccabeus by Jason of Cyrene. It features an elaborate prelude that further evokes the earlier tempting of the Babylonians when a foolish man bungles the presence of treasure in the temple. It should be noted that Mattathias is never mentioned in this account.
"Olympian" Zeus is referenced by name. He's described as the "Friend of Strangers." Doubtless a way to sell him to people outside the Greek tradition. It should be noted here that the close association between Greeks and Romans in Maccabees is no mistake. The Romans adapted their whole pantheon of gods from the Greeks. As the Greeks try to convert everyone to their pantheon, that's what causes all the problems in the Maccabees saga. From studying Greek mythology itself, I can only say that the actual history of it is rarely brought up, other than the classic myths themselves. It's funny, because at least in Oliver Stone's Alexander, belief in the gods at the time of Alexander the Great, who is the first person discussed in First Maccabees, is no longer taken literally. Alexander lived many centuries after the events depicted in The Iliad, which is in some ways the final statement on Greek gods.
Though perhaps it's fitting that the next Greek god referenced is Dionysus. The wild baccanalias held in his honor were basically the ancient world's frat parties, although they were in relation to secret religious ceremonies that may be relevant in this context. It would be no wonder that Jews had no interest in such things.
The noble martyrdom of Eleazar is described, which is kind of like the first Christian martyr Stephen's in Acts. This leads into the more classic sacrifice of the seven brothers, who each die professing their Jewish faith while also discussing the doctrine of resurrection and/or eternal life. Their mother, meanwhile, "fired her woman's reasoning with a man's courage."
By the end of Second Maccabees, Judas Maccabeus is actually still alive.
I suppose it ought to be noted that Second Maccabees also helps serve as the historic foundation of Hanukkah (Adam Sandler's "Eight Crazy Nights," or "Jewish Christmas").
And thus ends the Old Testament.
More talk of Rome, in relation to campaigns in Gaul and Spain. The modern world is emerging! Rome looks so good, Judas entreats peace from it. But after many spectacular military campaigns he dies in battle. "Now the rest of the acts of Judas, and his wars and the brave deeds that he did, and his greatness, have not been recorded, for they were very many." A statement that sounds a lot like how the Gospel of John ends.
There's a Canaanite wedding that turns into something else entirely.
Two remaining sons of Mattathias, Jonathan and Simon, succeed Judas, one after the other; so, similar success. Jonathan is so successful he wins peace and becomes a judge, real old school biblical, and then high priest.
Cleopatra is mentioned. This is one of the ways Egypt remains relevant to the biblical narrative well after Exodus.
Concerning Jonathan: "And when his accusers saw the honor that was paid him, in accordance with the proclamation, and saw him clothed in purple, they all fled."
It's lines like that that make it clear how Jesus in the New Testament was cannily presented in such a way that reflected as much Old Testament as possible, to make it clear the contrast and transition between them.
All the twists and turns of fortune make First Maccabees sound ripe for Shakespearean drama.
Jonathan ends up murdered in a slaughter. But this is okay, since pyramids are finally referenced in the Bible as a result (any modern individual automatically associates Egyptians with pyramids, so their absence in the Moses narrative will always be peculiar). "The land had rest all the days of Simon," who became high priest. But he still ends up killed in treachery. There are parallels here to Joseph among the Egyptians, the start of the Babylonian era, more of the parallels that exist all over the place.
There was was originally a continuation of this narrative in a chronicle of Simon's son John's time as high priest.
Judas Maccabeus is far less famous a biblical figure than just about anyone else in the Old Testament, and yet he is such a classic figure, comparable to anyone from Joshua to David. He would clearly have been a candidate for the prophesied messiah. But he's also a symbol of the futility of the old ways, even though he and his two brothers had such great success. There's even a line in there about prophets just as if that era was clearly not over, as if to make it clear he was no one's answer to the ultimate prophecy. Except in so many ways he clearly was, the last of the classical biblical figures. But if war were no longer the answer...
Second Maccabees is not a continuation but an apparently entirely separate account. It begins as a letter to Jews in Egypt. This is fitting in so many ways. Not the least because the New Testament would later end in a series of letters.
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Jeremiah, Solomon, and David are all invoked, but Nehemiah receives special emphasis for whatever reason.
Second Maccabees is apparently a condensed version of a five-volume account on the days of Judas Maccabeus by Jason of Cyrene. It features an elaborate prelude that further evokes the earlier tempting of the Babylonians when a foolish man bungles the presence of treasure in the temple. It should be noted that Mattathias is never mentioned in this account.
"Olympian" Zeus is referenced by name. He's described as the "Friend of Strangers." Doubtless a way to sell him to people outside the Greek tradition. It should be noted here that the close association between Greeks and Romans in Maccabees is no mistake. The Romans adapted their whole pantheon of gods from the Greeks. As the Greeks try to convert everyone to their pantheon, that's what causes all the problems in the Maccabees saga. From studying Greek mythology itself, I can only say that the actual history of it is rarely brought up, other than the classic myths themselves. It's funny, because at least in Oliver Stone's Alexander, belief in the gods at the time of Alexander the Great, who is the first person discussed in First Maccabees, is no longer taken literally. Alexander lived many centuries after the events depicted in The Iliad, which is in some ways the final statement on Greek gods.
Though perhaps it's fitting that the next Greek god referenced is Dionysus. The wild baccanalias held in his honor were basically the ancient world's frat parties, although they were in relation to secret religious ceremonies that may be relevant in this context. It would be no wonder that Jews had no interest in such things.
The noble martyrdom of Eleazar is described, which is kind of like the first Christian martyr Stephen's in Acts. This leads into the more classic sacrifice of the seven brothers, who each die professing their Jewish faith while also discussing the doctrine of resurrection and/or eternal life. Their mother, meanwhile, "fired her woman's reasoning with a man's courage."
By the end of Second Maccabees, Judas Maccabeus is actually still alive.
I suppose it ought to be noted that Second Maccabees also helps serve as the historic foundation of Hanukkah (Adam Sandler's "Eight Crazy Nights," or "Jewish Christmas").
And thus ends the Old Testament.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Book of Zechariah 1-14, Book of Malachi 1-4, First Book of Maccabees 1-5
Book of Zechariah is another one that's set during the time of Darius. Zechariah himself is the grandson of Iddo, one of the last figures of the Bible. His is another book filled with prophecy. Notably, it takes the foreshadowing of Revelation's Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse more literally than the last time we saw such a thing, by including actual horsemen.
"Sing and rejoice, O daughter of Zion; for lo, I come and I will dwell in the midst of you, says the Lord!" Hmm, perhaps as Jesus?
Satan is referenced directly. But it amounts to a more or less throwaway reference.
Greece is referenced directly for the first time, even though there have been constant allusions to close Jewish contact with its various nation states.
There's a payment of 30 pieces of silver, which is not as well-received as it first seems.
"When they look on him whom they have pierced, they shall mourn for him, as one mourns for an only child, and weep bitterly over him, as one weeps over a firstborn."
Book of Malachi, meanwhile, is another book concerned with the doings of the house of Esau. It's a little odd that so many later books in the Bible do this while so many of the former ones completely ignore Jacob's brother. It's a book mostly in the form of a screed against bad priests. It also includes a prophecy concerning Elijah's return.
First Book of Maccabees begins somewhat curiously with a warped portrait of Alexander the Great. I happen to know a bit about the famed Macedonian conqueror, so the summary provided here runs afoul quite notably in a few places, not the least in how it presents his final days. He most certainly did not appoint successors. That's how his empire crumbled so spectacularly. But here, he's said to have done exactly that. In fact, that's common for the Bible. Basic human fallibility is routinely reduced to character judgments, both on individuals and nations, usually predicated on their religious observance. But then, the Bible is a book primarily concerned with religious observance...Still long story short, and maybe this is simply a matter of how historic views change or don't always line up together, but don't take Alexander the Great's legacy strictly from what can be found in First Maccabees.
Anyway, after Alexander departs this mortal realm, things don't go so well for his successors, who are none of them half the man he was. One of the men who was definitely not half the man was Antiochus, the main villain of this piece, the instigator and religious persecutor who riles up Mattahias and his five sons, including Judas Maccabeus. Mattahias begins a full-scale revolt of Jews against tyranny, bringing back the fervor and battle success of the holy warriors of old, until he dies and Judas succeeds him. Judas has among his allies a group known as the Hasideans.
A couple notes worth including:
Antiochus, as part of his rampage sacks Egypt (whose fortunes were never again quite at Exodus levels). He plunders the temple. (I'm not clear on this because of the wording, but I think Judas later repairs it.) The temple at this time features "the bread of the Presence," which certainly sounds like a precursor to Catholicism's Holy Communion (which is quite literally the bread of the Presence). Jerusalem becomes occupied.
Oh, and Rome is referenced for the first time in the Bible...
Phinehas is fairly important in the theology here. Also invoked: Abraham, Joseph, Caleb, Joshua, David, Elijah, and Daniel.
The descendants of Esau are once again prominent, naturally, fighting against Judas and his warriors. And to think, way back in Genesis, Esau sounded like he was going to have such a good legacy.
"Sing and rejoice, O daughter of Zion; for lo, I come and I will dwell in the midst of you, says the Lord!" Hmm, perhaps as Jesus?
Satan is referenced directly. But it amounts to a more or less throwaway reference.
Greece is referenced directly for the first time, even though there have been constant allusions to close Jewish contact with its various nation states.
There's a payment of 30 pieces of silver, which is not as well-received as it first seems.
"When they look on him whom they have pierced, they shall mourn for him, as one mourns for an only child, and weep bitterly over him, as one weeps over a firstborn."
Book of Malachi, meanwhile, is another book concerned with the doings of the house of Esau. It's a little odd that so many later books in the Bible do this while so many of the former ones completely ignore Jacob's brother. It's a book mostly in the form of a screed against bad priests. It also includes a prophecy concerning Elijah's return.
First Book of Maccabees begins somewhat curiously with a warped portrait of Alexander the Great. I happen to know a bit about the famed Macedonian conqueror, so the summary provided here runs afoul quite notably in a few places, not the least in how it presents his final days. He most certainly did not appoint successors. That's how his empire crumbled so spectacularly. But here, he's said to have done exactly that. In fact, that's common for the Bible. Basic human fallibility is routinely reduced to character judgments, both on individuals and nations, usually predicated on their religious observance. But then, the Bible is a book primarily concerned with religious observance...Still long story short, and maybe this is simply a matter of how historic views change or don't always line up together, but don't take Alexander the Great's legacy strictly from what can be found in First Maccabees.
Anyway, after Alexander departs this mortal realm, things don't go so well for his successors, who are none of them half the man he was. One of the men who was definitely not half the man was Antiochus, the main villain of this piece, the instigator and religious persecutor who riles up Mattahias and his five sons, including Judas Maccabeus. Mattahias begins a full-scale revolt of Jews against tyranny, bringing back the fervor and battle success of the holy warriors of old, until he dies and Judas succeeds him. Judas has among his allies a group known as the Hasideans.
A couple notes worth including:
Antiochus, as part of his rampage sacks Egypt (whose fortunes were never again quite at Exodus levels). He plunders the temple. (I'm not clear on this because of the wording, but I think Judas later repairs it.) The temple at this time features "the bread of the Presence," which certainly sounds like a precursor to Catholicism's Holy Communion (which is quite literally the bread of the Presence). Jerusalem becomes occupied.
Oh, and Rome is referenced for the first time in the Bible...
Phinehas is fairly important in the theology here. Also invoked: Abraham, Joseph, Caleb, Joshua, David, Elijah, and Daniel.
The descendants of Esau are once again prominent, naturally, fighting against Judas and his warriors. And to think, way back in Genesis, Esau sounded like he was going to have such a good legacy.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Book of Jeremiah 36-52, Lamentations 1-5
Baruch shows up again and starts to do actual things. Such as act very much like Aaron to Jeremiah's Moses.
Jeremiah utters, "What wrong have I done to you or your servants, or the people, that you have put me in prison?" Then a little later, it's said of him, "Let this man be put to death, for he is weakening the hands of the soldiers who are left in the city, and the hands of all the people by speaking such words to them. For this man is not seeking the welfare of this people, but their harm." Sounds a lot like Jesus foreshadowing to me.
Jeremiah is then thrown into the pit. It's Ebedmelech the Ethiopian who gets him out.
The further Jesus analogy in this scenario is Nebuchadnezzar in the Pontius Pilate role. In fact, the whole depiction of Pilate could very well have been drawn from Book of Jeremiah. As historians are increasingly quick to note, the real Pilate would never even have thought twice about executing Jesus.
I have a correction to make about the earlier reference to "queen of heaven." Now I'm interpreting to have always been an Egyptian reference, likely to Isis. Egypt is prominent in Jeremiah.
In the litany of terrors against nations that helps comprise Book of Jeremiah (it seems obvious that several separate works were at some point combined), there's the suggestion that the conclusion of the Esau legacy is finally reached. You'll remember that although Jacob's brother did actually get to enjoy prosperity through the generations his adventures disappear from the Bible soon after.
The variations of this book from earlier biblical record continue: the end of the Babylonian exile is far less mutual and more like rats fleeing a sinking ship, with Babylon meeting the same sorry fate as other nations in the litany of doom and woe. I'd suggest that it seems obvious some or all of this was written well after the fact, even there's at least one line ("Thus far are the words of Jeremiah") that would try and suggest otherwise. Most of the books of the Bible probably didn't exist in direct awareness of each other much less reflect a lot of direct record. It's hard enough to authenticate such things in the New Testament.
Sodom and Gomorrah, however, are clearly part of the tradition everyone knows at least by name (some suggestions made here indicate varying reasons never actually given as to why they were so famously smited), as they are referenced several times in Book of Jeremiah.
I imagine one way or another that this is not a favorite book of Iraqis. Although funny enough, and maybe I said this already, but Abraham's ziggurat is in Iraq.
It ends funny, though. Jeremiah abruptly disappears (to say nothing of an earlier and random sequence involving a bloody warrior named Ishmael). It rewinds back to the very start of the Babylonian saga, right after having apparently closed the book of Babylon itself.
Lamentations, traditionally ascribed to Jeremiah but clearly not by him, is a, well, poetic lament about the destruction of Jerusalem, and even a moment of religious doubt (which suggests people generally did believe what they were supposed to believe with or without Jeremiah), some lines of general woe concerning the exile era.
Jeremiah utters, "What wrong have I done to you or your servants, or the people, that you have put me in prison?" Then a little later, it's said of him, "Let this man be put to death, for he is weakening the hands of the soldiers who are left in the city, and the hands of all the people by speaking such words to them. For this man is not seeking the welfare of this people, but their harm." Sounds a lot like Jesus foreshadowing to me.
Jeremiah is then thrown into the pit. It's Ebedmelech the Ethiopian who gets him out.
The further Jesus analogy in this scenario is Nebuchadnezzar in the Pontius Pilate role. In fact, the whole depiction of Pilate could very well have been drawn from Book of Jeremiah. As historians are increasingly quick to note, the real Pilate would never even have thought twice about executing Jesus.
I have a correction to make about the earlier reference to "queen of heaven." Now I'm interpreting to have always been an Egyptian reference, likely to Isis. Egypt is prominent in Jeremiah.
In the litany of terrors against nations that helps comprise Book of Jeremiah (it seems obvious that several separate works were at some point combined), there's the suggestion that the conclusion of the Esau legacy is finally reached. You'll remember that although Jacob's brother did actually get to enjoy prosperity through the generations his adventures disappear from the Bible soon after.
The variations of this book from earlier biblical record continue: the end of the Babylonian exile is far less mutual and more like rats fleeing a sinking ship, with Babylon meeting the same sorry fate as other nations in the litany of doom and woe. I'd suggest that it seems obvious some or all of this was written well after the fact, even there's at least one line ("Thus far are the words of Jeremiah") that would try and suggest otherwise. Most of the books of the Bible probably didn't exist in direct awareness of each other much less reflect a lot of direct record. It's hard enough to authenticate such things in the New Testament.
Sodom and Gomorrah, however, are clearly part of the tradition everyone knows at least by name (some suggestions made here indicate varying reasons never actually given as to why they were so famously smited), as they are referenced several times in Book of Jeremiah.
I imagine one way or another that this is not a favorite book of Iraqis. Although funny enough, and maybe I said this already, but Abraham's ziggurat is in Iraq.
It ends funny, though. Jeremiah abruptly disappears (to say nothing of an earlier and random sequence involving a bloody warrior named Ishmael). It rewinds back to the very start of the Babylonian saga, right after having apparently closed the book of Babylon itself.
Lamentations, traditionally ascribed to Jeremiah but clearly not by him, is a, well, poetic lament about the destruction of Jerusalem, and even a moment of religious doubt (which suggests people generally did believe what they were supposed to believe with or without Jeremiah), some lines of general woe concerning the exile era.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Song of Solomon 1-8, Wisdom of Solomon 1-19, Book of Sirach 1-5
The short and sweet ode to love (to what end beyond love is up for debate) includes henna in its first chapter, whether the tree or the art (up to debate?). The second chapter includes the phrase, "I am a rose of Sharon," which a type of flower and also a character in Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath. The third chapter references frankincense and myrrh in a romantic sense. Song of Solomon amounts to a wonderful look at the culture of the Old Testament, and after Ecclesiastes is another fine book to read if you're skeptical that there's some truly great literature in the Bible.
Wisdom of Solomon is kind of the opposite. It's another plodding wisdom literature effort. (Neither one is actually by Solomon, by the way.)
The first chapter references "that which holds all things together," a phrase that calls to mind Yoda's description of the Force in Star Wars. Hades is also referenced again. The second chapter covers this book's vision of how atheists happen. It also evokes Jesus at the moment of his death. It further proposes the doctrine of eternal life for the faithful. The fifth chapter calls Jesus to mind, too. The tenth and eleventh chapters recap Genesis and Exodus without any names mentioned. They're pretty interesting. The thirteenth chapter is the book's version of how pagans come to worship their idols. The rest of it becomes a little tiresome.
The Book of Sirach (so I'll call it for simplicity's sake) is another piece of wisdom literature, and so far it's far better than Wisdom of Solomon. It's got a prologue from the translator, who studied, of course, in Egypt.
Wisdom of Solomon is kind of the opposite. It's another plodding wisdom literature effort. (Neither one is actually by Solomon, by the way.)
The first chapter references "that which holds all things together," a phrase that calls to mind Yoda's description of the Force in Star Wars. Hades is also referenced again. The second chapter covers this book's vision of how atheists happen. It also evokes Jesus at the moment of his death. It further proposes the doctrine of eternal life for the faithful. The fifth chapter calls Jesus to mind, too. The tenth and eleventh chapters recap Genesis and Exodus without any names mentioned. They're pretty interesting. The thirteenth chapter is the book's version of how pagans come to worship their idols. The rest of it becomes a little tiresome.
The Book of Sirach (so I'll call it for simplicity's sake) is another piece of wisdom literature, and so far it's far better than Wisdom of Solomon. It's got a prologue from the translator, who studied, of course, in Egypt.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Second Book of Kings 11-25, First Book of Chronicles 1-10
We pick right back up with the succession of unfortunate Jewish kings. There's an incidental reference to God sending Israel a savior of some kind. The dying Elisha performs an act out of later Arthurian legend, signaling a destination of some sort with an arrow through a window. His bones are also the first recorded Judeo-Christian relics to serve as the catalyst for a miracle.
Jonah is referenced. Nineveh, separately, is also referenced.
The temple is desecrated. There is a consistency now in the fact that pagans built their altars on high ground. Hebrews generally behaving badly, acting a lot like the ones who came out of Egypt, and even create themselves some molten calves. Second Kings makes it a point to say that they're reverting to former ways. Only Judah remains a bastion of the faith.
Babylon looms heavily.
The phrase "you are now relying on Egypt, that broken reed of a staff," making it clear where that nation now stands. The Aramaic language is specifically referenced.
A lot of this makes me think that this is the period where the Jewish faith began to be reconciled into one tradition, and this is before we Josiah, much less First Chronicles, which I contend may have actually been written first, making both books of Kings another act of prequel, like Genesis and the books of Moses. But we'll get to that.
Isaiah enters the picture! He's extremely instrumental in leading a religious revival under Hezekiah. He also introduces the doctrine of God having a plan rather than humanity goofing up, which supports my predestination theory from earlier, in that Adam and Eve were always meant to fall. No matter how often humanity fails God, he's always leading them in a specific direction, starting with Abraham. You might also say that some of this was shaped in a certain direction by later extrapolation of the historic record.
The angel of the Lord smites the Assyrians.
Hezekiah seems to tempt the Babylonians in much the way Egypt and the Philistines were previously induced to consider the spoils of the Hebrew faith. Isaiah prophesies the exile. Manasseh succeeds Hezekiah, is so bad that God swears holy vengeance against his people no matter what, and "no matter what" happens to mean Josiah, who enacts a greater religious revival than Hezekiah. He reigns in Jerusalem for 31 years. He discovers the book of the law, which is presumably the ark, and by this may have helped solidify Jewish faith to that point. He is given an all but cursory appearance nonetheless. He dies in battle at Megiddo, another reason to associate it with apocalypse.
Jeremiah is referenced!
Then, unfortunately, Nebuchadnezzar, the great king of the Babylonians. He has already taken dominion over the Egyptians, but that only stands to reason at this point. Jerusalem is besieged. The Hebrews become, actually, amicable citizens of Babylon, not like the bondage in Egypt anyway. Second Kings ends.
First Chronicles begins with a real chronicle, all right, a thick tangle of genealogy that does a more thorough job than any biblical precedent before it. Caleb seems to be more significant in this record than Moses, who receives a cursory reference, but at least his descent from Levi is finally completed, unlike in Exodus. This makes it seem like Moses was originally part of a separate tradition, and perhaps indeed he was.
Then the repeats begin. The Philistines start our story here, and Saul's war against them and his suicide. No real distinction is made about where he stands in the tradition except that he was, like most of the kings in the books of Kings, someone who didn't do right by God.
Jonah is referenced. Nineveh, separately, is also referenced.
The temple is desecrated. There is a consistency now in the fact that pagans built their altars on high ground. Hebrews generally behaving badly, acting a lot like the ones who came out of Egypt, and even create themselves some molten calves. Second Kings makes it a point to say that they're reverting to former ways. Only Judah remains a bastion of the faith.
Babylon looms heavily.
The phrase "you are now relying on Egypt, that broken reed of a staff," making it clear where that nation now stands. The Aramaic language is specifically referenced.
A lot of this makes me think that this is the period where the Jewish faith began to be reconciled into one tradition, and this is before we Josiah, much less First Chronicles, which I contend may have actually been written first, making both books of Kings another act of prequel, like Genesis and the books of Moses. But we'll get to that.
Isaiah enters the picture! He's extremely instrumental in leading a religious revival under Hezekiah. He also introduces the doctrine of God having a plan rather than humanity goofing up, which supports my predestination theory from earlier, in that Adam and Eve were always meant to fall. No matter how often humanity fails God, he's always leading them in a specific direction, starting with Abraham. You might also say that some of this was shaped in a certain direction by later extrapolation of the historic record.
The angel of the Lord smites the Assyrians.
Hezekiah seems to tempt the Babylonians in much the way Egypt and the Philistines were previously induced to consider the spoils of the Hebrew faith. Isaiah prophesies the exile. Manasseh succeeds Hezekiah, is so bad that God swears holy vengeance against his people no matter what, and "no matter what" happens to mean Josiah, who enacts a greater religious revival than Hezekiah. He reigns in Jerusalem for 31 years. He discovers the book of the law, which is presumably the ark, and by this may have helped solidify Jewish faith to that point. He is given an all but cursory appearance nonetheless. He dies in battle at Megiddo, another reason to associate it with apocalypse.
Jeremiah is referenced!
Then, unfortunately, Nebuchadnezzar, the great king of the Babylonians. He has already taken dominion over the Egyptians, but that only stands to reason at this point. Jerusalem is besieged. The Hebrews become, actually, amicable citizens of Babylon, not like the bondage in Egypt anyway. Second Kings ends.
First Chronicles begins with a real chronicle, all right, a thick tangle of genealogy that does a more thorough job than any biblical precedent before it. Caleb seems to be more significant in this record than Moses, who receives a cursory reference, but at least his descent from Levi is finally completed, unlike in Exodus. This makes it seem like Moses was originally part of a separate tradition, and perhaps indeed he was.
Then the repeats begin. The Philistines start our story here, and Saul's war against them and his suicide. No real distinction is made about where he stands in the tradition except that he was, like most of the kings in the books of Kings, someone who didn't do right by God.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
First Book of Kings 12-22, Second Book of Kings 1-10
Solomon's son Rehoboam succeeds him. It's the first of many names you'll have probably never heard of or at least won't remember if you have. There are some big names ahead, but also a lot of incredibly small ones. Mostly the degenerative nature of the Hebrew monarchy on display for the foreseeable future...
The poor dude starts out poorly by forsaking the wisdom of his elders in favor of his frat buddies, basically. People somehow feel betrayed by this attitude. "...Israel has been in rebellion against the house of David to this day," thanks to poor examples like this. Although to be fair, both David and Solomon screwed up pretty good, too, even if they actually did a bunch of positive things as well.
The splintering crown leads way to the reign of Jeroboam. War is averted, momentarily. Jeroboam is crazy enough to drive his people away from God in an effort to divert them from Rehoboam. It makes no sense. But that's also part of God's own doing, the curse he leveled against Israel thanks to once too often straying from the chosen path. Jeroboam also breaks the Mosaic tradition of strictly Levite priests.
On the other hand, Josiah is prophesied, although he doesn't show up as of Second Kings 10. That's someone to look forward to!
And there's Jesus, whom Josiah might be said to evoke. The prophet who sees Josiah in the future returns home from a different way than he came, like the three wise men from the nativity story of the New Testament.
I'd name the prophet, but he isn't named in First Kings, and neither is another prophet who shows up, which doesn't help the narrative at this point be terribly memorable. It might be symbolic, however, of their combined ineffectiveness, a little like my good friend Balaam.
The whole point of Jeroboam seems to be that God didn't forsake David so much as apparently every other member of the chosen people. He's shrunk his commitment back to its origins, but instead of promising many descendants, only one in the future who will fulfill the abortive promise of David's destiny. And, by the way, when someone like David, or Solomon, wins everyone does. And that's kind of what Jesus does, isn't it? It's the whole reason the New Testament seems like an extension and also drastic revision of the Old Testament.
The later books of Chronicles is referenced for the first time. The first time of many. I noted nine more instances between both books of Kings. Clearly they were written in quick succession, or more cleverly edited together than previous books of the Bible.
Jeroboam reigned 22 years. After a while, I stopped keeping a record of reigns and overlaps of reigns. There was just no point. Maybe as a chart it would have looked good, but honestly? You don't know these names because by themselves they just aren't important.
Nadab succeeds him! See what I mean? Who's Nadab? Rehoboam was 41 when he began his reign, which lasted 17 years. People misbehaved. He didn't exactly stop them. Although the Egyptians are big winners. They're suddenly very relevant again, which was something that began under Solomon. They replace the Philistines, and of course you know all about them. They raid Jerusalem. War between the camps of Jeroboam and Rehoboam, and maybe a few citizens lose track of whose side they're on because of the extreme similarity of their names...
Then Rehoboam died. Abijah succeeded him. Reigned 3 years, 18 years into Jeroboam's competing reign. He was morally compromised. They all were. It's great that Christians later had so many wonderful saints, because it was incredibly hard for all these biblical figures to be anything like that pure. War between the camps of Abijah and Jeroboam. Abijah succeeded by Asa, 20th year of Jeroboam's reign. He lasts 41 years. Doesn't leave any real impact. He feuds with Baasha, Jeroboam's successor.. Then comes Jehoshaphat, a name you'll probably know. Nadab was betrayed by Baasha, with Philistine connections (they had to show again). That signals the end of the house of Jeroboam. Honestly, this is like Game of Thrones...
Baasha reigned for 24 years. He thoroughly rejected Jeroboam, but was just as bad. Elah, the son of Baasha, comes next. If the name sounds familiar, it's Philistine in origin, and was previously featured as the valley in which David defeated Goliath. Zimri betrays him, ends the house of Baasha. Israel further splinters. New kings in new kingdoms include Tibni and Omri, although he was worse than anyone else. But, Ahab succeeds him!
No, not the Herman Melville character, the biblical Ahab, as in Ahab and Jezebel. How does Jezebel become an epitaph? By being probably the worst woman in the whole Bible, Iago-like in her manipulations. But who's that to try and save the day? Elijah! He kind of redeems Ahab, and that's just the start of his adventures! He's a Christ figure, which only figures, because apparently thought Jesus was either Moses or Elijah returned to earth.
Classic episode that sees Elijah completely discredit the prophets of Baal follows, sort of like Moses and the Pharaoh's sorcerers. It's also the first time God has been actively demonstrative since Moses, too. Elijah undergoes a trial in the desert, like Jesus, lasts for the same prophetic 40 days. There's also the episode where God is manifested in the most modest way possible, which evokes the way his relationship to mankind has evolved since the early books in the Old Testament. Elisha appears, predating the apostles of the gospels but basically exactly like them.
Syria becomes the new Egypt, which was the new Philistines (who themselves remain mostly a biblical people to this day). Israel prevails under Elijah's guidance. The splintered nations grow less pathetic now that they have a strong figure at the center again. Elijah, however, is the first prime figure who is not himself a prime mover. The Syrians recognize God's strength, and so make peace.
Ahab becomes moody after a series of small sleights. Jezebel is Jezebel. Elijah chastises Ahab for letting Jezebel be Jezebel. Ahab and Jezebel are basically Adam and Eve figures. Jehoshaphat realizes Israel is stronger when united against Syria. Prophets bicker. Ahab dies in the Syrian wars that are somehow continuing (darn Jehoshaphat). Ahaziah succeeds him, is less redeemable than Ahab. Jehoram succeeds Jehoshaphat. First Book of Kings ends.
Second Book of Kings begins much the way the last one ended. Elijah is busy trying to get people not to worship gods before God. Ahaziah presses the issue, tests both God and Elijah, and ends up smited for his effort. Elijah parts waters (like Moses), the famed chariot of fire appears, and then he ascends to heaven, the way Christians find very evocative for the New Testament.
Elisha fixes the water in Jericho, which remains that way "to this day." He was apparently bald, by the way, tormented for it like the "wisp of tow" taunt in The Brothers Karamazov.
Jehoram rejects Baal, but that doesn't mean he's a good king. Elisha performs more wonders. There's more warfare. All this warfare is looking increasingly bleak for the future of Israel. Elisha performs his classic oil miracle. Looks like a Christ figure himself. He even brings a child back to life. If Jesus had had another Jesus after him, Christianity would look a lot different today. He multiplies a little bit of food to feed many people. He cures a leper, Naaman, who at first scoffs at Elisha's proscribed of treatment. Naaman is a great warrior, so he hadn't exactly been treated as roughly as other lepers. Elisha helps the Hebrew army avoids Syrian traps. God helps him foil Syrian assassins.
Things on the whole, otherwise, remain pretty messy. It's worth noting that Samaria is relevant in this era. Jesus later has one of his classic parables concerning the "good Samaritan." Elisha's prophecies, which was earlier indicated in the Bible as the only way to judge the worth of a prophet, always come true. Philistines. Elisha prophesies Hazael's reign in Syria and war with Israel. Joram reigns, is no better than anyone else. Then Ahaziah. Wars. Elisha has Jehu anointed. Jehu immediately begins consolidating power. Ends the house of Ahab. Joram murdered. Ahaziah murdered. Jezebel murdered! He also evokes Samson when he tricks followers of Baal into gathering in one space, and then killing them all. He doesn't spare the earthly smiting one bit. Killing, again, seems to be justifiable if you do it in the name of religion. And so the Inquisition. Jehu, for all this holy crusading, is not hugely more perfect than anyone, just a human purge machine, trying to clear the Hebrew cobwebs. His reign lasts 28 years. Jehoahaz succeeds him. Second Kings continues...
The poor dude starts out poorly by forsaking the wisdom of his elders in favor of his frat buddies, basically. People somehow feel betrayed by this attitude. "...Israel has been in rebellion against the house of David to this day," thanks to poor examples like this. Although to be fair, both David and Solomon screwed up pretty good, too, even if they actually did a bunch of positive things as well.
The splintering crown leads way to the reign of Jeroboam. War is averted, momentarily. Jeroboam is crazy enough to drive his people away from God in an effort to divert them from Rehoboam. It makes no sense. But that's also part of God's own doing, the curse he leveled against Israel thanks to once too often straying from the chosen path. Jeroboam also breaks the Mosaic tradition of strictly Levite priests.
On the other hand, Josiah is prophesied, although he doesn't show up as of Second Kings 10. That's someone to look forward to!
And there's Jesus, whom Josiah might be said to evoke. The prophet who sees Josiah in the future returns home from a different way than he came, like the three wise men from the nativity story of the New Testament.
I'd name the prophet, but he isn't named in First Kings, and neither is another prophet who shows up, which doesn't help the narrative at this point be terribly memorable. It might be symbolic, however, of their combined ineffectiveness, a little like my good friend Balaam.
The whole point of Jeroboam seems to be that God didn't forsake David so much as apparently every other member of the chosen people. He's shrunk his commitment back to its origins, but instead of promising many descendants, only one in the future who will fulfill the abortive promise of David's destiny. And, by the way, when someone like David, or Solomon, wins everyone does. And that's kind of what Jesus does, isn't it? It's the whole reason the New Testament seems like an extension and also drastic revision of the Old Testament.
The later books of Chronicles is referenced for the first time. The first time of many. I noted nine more instances between both books of Kings. Clearly they were written in quick succession, or more cleverly edited together than previous books of the Bible.
Jeroboam reigned 22 years. After a while, I stopped keeping a record of reigns and overlaps of reigns. There was just no point. Maybe as a chart it would have looked good, but honestly? You don't know these names because by themselves they just aren't important.
Nadab succeeds him! See what I mean? Who's Nadab? Rehoboam was 41 when he began his reign, which lasted 17 years. People misbehaved. He didn't exactly stop them. Although the Egyptians are big winners. They're suddenly very relevant again, which was something that began under Solomon. They replace the Philistines, and of course you know all about them. They raid Jerusalem. War between the camps of Jeroboam and Rehoboam, and maybe a few citizens lose track of whose side they're on because of the extreme similarity of their names...
Then Rehoboam died. Abijah succeeded him. Reigned 3 years, 18 years into Jeroboam's competing reign. He was morally compromised. They all were. It's great that Christians later had so many wonderful saints, because it was incredibly hard for all these biblical figures to be anything like that pure. War between the camps of Abijah and Jeroboam. Abijah succeeded by Asa, 20th year of Jeroboam's reign. He lasts 41 years. Doesn't leave any real impact. He feuds with Baasha, Jeroboam's successor.. Then comes Jehoshaphat, a name you'll probably know. Nadab was betrayed by Baasha, with Philistine connections (they had to show again). That signals the end of the house of Jeroboam. Honestly, this is like Game of Thrones...
Baasha reigned for 24 years. He thoroughly rejected Jeroboam, but was just as bad. Elah, the son of Baasha, comes next. If the name sounds familiar, it's Philistine in origin, and was previously featured as the valley in which David defeated Goliath. Zimri betrays him, ends the house of Baasha. Israel further splinters. New kings in new kingdoms include Tibni and Omri, although he was worse than anyone else. But, Ahab succeeds him!
No, not the Herman Melville character, the biblical Ahab, as in Ahab and Jezebel. How does Jezebel become an epitaph? By being probably the worst woman in the whole Bible, Iago-like in her manipulations. But who's that to try and save the day? Elijah! He kind of redeems Ahab, and that's just the start of his adventures! He's a Christ figure, which only figures, because apparently thought Jesus was either Moses or Elijah returned to earth.
Classic episode that sees Elijah completely discredit the prophets of Baal follows, sort of like Moses and the Pharaoh's sorcerers. It's also the first time God has been actively demonstrative since Moses, too. Elijah undergoes a trial in the desert, like Jesus, lasts for the same prophetic 40 days. There's also the episode where God is manifested in the most modest way possible, which evokes the way his relationship to mankind has evolved since the early books in the Old Testament. Elisha appears, predating the apostles of the gospels but basically exactly like them.
Syria becomes the new Egypt, which was the new Philistines (who themselves remain mostly a biblical people to this day). Israel prevails under Elijah's guidance. The splintered nations grow less pathetic now that they have a strong figure at the center again. Elijah, however, is the first prime figure who is not himself a prime mover. The Syrians recognize God's strength, and so make peace.
Ahab becomes moody after a series of small sleights. Jezebel is Jezebel. Elijah chastises Ahab for letting Jezebel be Jezebel. Ahab and Jezebel are basically Adam and Eve figures. Jehoshaphat realizes Israel is stronger when united against Syria. Prophets bicker. Ahab dies in the Syrian wars that are somehow continuing (darn Jehoshaphat). Ahaziah succeeds him, is less redeemable than Ahab. Jehoram succeeds Jehoshaphat. First Book of Kings ends.
Second Book of Kings begins much the way the last one ended. Elijah is busy trying to get people not to worship gods before God. Ahaziah presses the issue, tests both God and Elijah, and ends up smited for his effort. Elijah parts waters (like Moses), the famed chariot of fire appears, and then he ascends to heaven, the way Christians find very evocative for the New Testament.
Elisha fixes the water in Jericho, which remains that way "to this day." He was apparently bald, by the way, tormented for it like the "wisp of tow" taunt in The Brothers Karamazov.
Jehoram rejects Baal, but that doesn't mean he's a good king. Elisha performs more wonders. There's more warfare. All this warfare is looking increasingly bleak for the future of Israel. Elisha performs his classic oil miracle. Looks like a Christ figure himself. He even brings a child back to life. If Jesus had had another Jesus after him, Christianity would look a lot different today. He multiplies a little bit of food to feed many people. He cures a leper, Naaman, who at first scoffs at Elisha's proscribed of treatment. Naaman is a great warrior, so he hadn't exactly been treated as roughly as other lepers. Elisha helps the Hebrew army avoids Syrian traps. God helps him foil Syrian assassins.
Things on the whole, otherwise, remain pretty messy. It's worth noting that Samaria is relevant in this era. Jesus later has one of his classic parables concerning the "good Samaritan." Elisha's prophecies, which was earlier indicated in the Bible as the only way to judge the worth of a prophet, always come true. Philistines. Elisha prophesies Hazael's reign in Syria and war with Israel. Joram reigns, is no better than anyone else. Then Ahaziah. Wars. Elisha has Jehu anointed. Jehu immediately begins consolidating power. Ends the house of Ahab. Joram murdered. Ahaziah murdered. Jezebel murdered! He also evokes Samson when he tricks followers of Baal into gathering in one space, and then killing them all. He doesn't spare the earthly smiting one bit. Killing, again, seems to be justifiable if you do it in the name of religion. And so the Inquisition. Jehu, for all this holy crusading, is not hugely more perfect than anyone, just a human purge machine, trying to clear the Hebrew cobwebs. His reign lasts 28 years. Jehoahaz succeeds him. Second Kings continues...
Friday, December 20, 2013
Second Book of Samuel 21-24, First Book of Kings 1-11
David attempts to solve all Israel's problems forever. It doesn't quite work. The darn Philistines appear again. David grows weary. A second Goliath, representative of a remnant of giants...
Then there's the song of David, which seems to reflect heavily on later Christian theology, not to mention love of that common Books of Samuel theme, warfare. It's very similar language to the psalms, like what they were based on. Although war itself will remain a focus of the narrative for some time, it no longer seems quite the driving force of Israel's future. Although there is, again, much love for it.
God's wrath is kindled again, although David is able to appease him after a selection of three punishments ends with classical biblical plague. No overt smiting. End of Second Book of Samuel.
The beginning of First Book of Kings sees David in old age given a concubine to help keep his increasingly frail body warm. First Kings makes it clear they don't have sex, though, in case you wanted to know. Mutinous behavior continues, this time with another son, who is also described as exceptionally handsome (I guess this is where all our modern literature gets the idea from). Nathan quickly gets Bathsheba to put Solomon under protection, because he's the clear threat to the usurper. David has a signature mule, which Solomon symbolically rides to drive the point home (reminiscent of Jesus on Palm Sunday). He's soon anointed to make it official that he's the one who's king and David successor. Like his father before him, Solomon pursues a policy of forgiveness against his rivals. David implores him to also keep his other traditions alive. Then the old king dies.
Solomon begins consolidating his power, settling old affairs such as finally dealing with Joab (read: executing him). He makes a marriage alliance with Egypt, which is growing in biblical importance again. It only figures, because this is only the start of many allusions to past events. He also begins building up Jerusalem, making it truly fit for a king.
God grants him the choice of three extraordinary favors, and Solomon famously chooses wisdom, so he gets all of them anyway. Then follows another anecdote you'll certainly recognize, the wise act of figuring out who the real mother is when a dispute arises, threatening to split the child in two. It's the example everyone uses, and I guess it's the one the Bible does, too. In short order the later psalms and proverbs are attributed to him. Preparations for the temple are made. Clearly Solomon was thought of in great terms by the later Hebrews, as pretty much everything their is to know about his reign is recorded in minute detail, far greater than even similar work that had been done in the Books of Samuel. These are the most important books after the Moses cycle to the Jewish faith, and they're also the most important ones to Christian faith from the Old Testament.
It's also perhaps significant that the extreme detail that God related to Moses concerning the ark in the first place is more than represented in explaining the temple's many opulent features.
For the record, First Kings records the amount of time since the exile from Egypt to the time of Solomon at 480 years. That's about for us modern readers the whole American continent history from Columbus to our day.
God keeps reiterating that if Solomon remains on the straight and narrow everything will be perfect for Israel. Of course he does!
It took 7 years to complete work on the temple. There's a great ceremony to commemorate the ark's journey to its final resting place in the temple. It's at this point that the reader may realize that the true main character of the Bible to this point has been the ark, which has been present from Moses to Solomon. The promise God made David that it would be Solomon who saw the building of the temple is a little like when Moses was told it would be Joshua who entered the promised land. It wasn't until David had the idea that the temple was even considered a final destination. God had been content to let the ark travel freely through Israel. There are more echoes of Moses, although it's compassion and forgiveness that God prefers these days, rather than his old policy of smiting first and asking questions later (you know, basically). It tends to read like a reflection of later New Testament theology.
I know, I keep saying that. It's there, what else can I say?
It took 20 years in all, including Solomon's own elaborate lodgings, to complete construction work.
The Queen of Sheba shows up to test Solomon, and he passes it. Although, on a related note or not, his many romantic conquests really start to take their toll on him. He starts putting other gods before, or at least alongside, God. This does not please God, who revokes his charter and then agrees to let the Hebrews keep Jerusalem but nothing else.
A new enemy (the first of several) arises, Hadad, who once had occasion to hide out in Egypt. The same is true of Jeroboam (who in his earlier days received a prophecy that he would one day inherit a part of Solomon's kingdom, which led Solomon to try and eliminate him). All this fleeing to Egypt evokes both Joseph in the past and Mary and the other Joseph in the future. A third enemy is Rezon.
There's a strong indication that Solomon, like Adam before him, was always meant to fall. Probably the Jewish people would much have preferred a permanent and considerable kingdom, but that's just not something that happened. A good thing always ends. Call it a proverb.
Solomon reigned for 40 years, and then he died.
Then there's the song of David, which seems to reflect heavily on later Christian theology, not to mention love of that common Books of Samuel theme, warfare. It's very similar language to the psalms, like what they were based on. Although war itself will remain a focus of the narrative for some time, it no longer seems quite the driving force of Israel's future. Although there is, again, much love for it.
God's wrath is kindled again, although David is able to appease him after a selection of three punishments ends with classical biblical plague. No overt smiting. End of Second Book of Samuel.
The beginning of First Book of Kings sees David in old age given a concubine to help keep his increasingly frail body warm. First Kings makes it clear they don't have sex, though, in case you wanted to know. Mutinous behavior continues, this time with another son, who is also described as exceptionally handsome (I guess this is where all our modern literature gets the idea from). Nathan quickly gets Bathsheba to put Solomon under protection, because he's the clear threat to the usurper. David has a signature mule, which Solomon symbolically rides to drive the point home (reminiscent of Jesus on Palm Sunday). He's soon anointed to make it official that he's the one who's king and David successor. Like his father before him, Solomon pursues a policy of forgiveness against his rivals. David implores him to also keep his other traditions alive. Then the old king dies.
Solomon begins consolidating his power, settling old affairs such as finally dealing with Joab (read: executing him). He makes a marriage alliance with Egypt, which is growing in biblical importance again. It only figures, because this is only the start of many allusions to past events. He also begins building up Jerusalem, making it truly fit for a king.
God grants him the choice of three extraordinary favors, and Solomon famously chooses wisdom, so he gets all of them anyway. Then follows another anecdote you'll certainly recognize, the wise act of figuring out who the real mother is when a dispute arises, threatening to split the child in two. It's the example everyone uses, and I guess it's the one the Bible does, too. In short order the later psalms and proverbs are attributed to him. Preparations for the temple are made. Clearly Solomon was thought of in great terms by the later Hebrews, as pretty much everything their is to know about his reign is recorded in minute detail, far greater than even similar work that had been done in the Books of Samuel. These are the most important books after the Moses cycle to the Jewish faith, and they're also the most important ones to Christian faith from the Old Testament.
It's also perhaps significant that the extreme detail that God related to Moses concerning the ark in the first place is more than represented in explaining the temple's many opulent features.
For the record, First Kings records the amount of time since the exile from Egypt to the time of Solomon at 480 years. That's about for us modern readers the whole American continent history from Columbus to our day.
God keeps reiterating that if Solomon remains on the straight and narrow everything will be perfect for Israel. Of course he does!
It took 7 years to complete work on the temple. There's a great ceremony to commemorate the ark's journey to its final resting place in the temple. It's at this point that the reader may realize that the true main character of the Bible to this point has been the ark, which has been present from Moses to Solomon. The promise God made David that it would be Solomon who saw the building of the temple is a little like when Moses was told it would be Joshua who entered the promised land. It wasn't until David had the idea that the temple was even considered a final destination. God had been content to let the ark travel freely through Israel. There are more echoes of Moses, although it's compassion and forgiveness that God prefers these days, rather than his old policy of smiting first and asking questions later (you know, basically). It tends to read like a reflection of later New Testament theology.
I know, I keep saying that. It's there, what else can I say?
It took 20 years in all, including Solomon's own elaborate lodgings, to complete construction work.
The Queen of Sheba shows up to test Solomon, and he passes it. Although, on a related note or not, his many romantic conquests really start to take their toll on him. He starts putting other gods before, or at least alongside, God. This does not please God, who revokes his charter and then agrees to let the Hebrews keep Jerusalem but nothing else.
A new enemy (the first of several) arises, Hadad, who once had occasion to hide out in Egypt. The same is true of Jeroboam (who in his earlier days received a prophecy that he would one day inherit a part of Solomon's kingdom, which led Solomon to try and eliminate him). All this fleeing to Egypt evokes both Joseph in the past and Mary and the other Joseph in the future. A third enemy is Rezon.
There's a strong indication that Solomon, like Adam before him, was always meant to fall. Probably the Jewish people would much have preferred a permanent and considerable kingdom, but that's just not something that happened. A good thing always ends. Call it a proverb.
Solomon reigned for 40 years, and then he died.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Exodus 5-15
Before I go much further, I should note that Exodus is not only where God becomes known as Yahweh, but also the Lord.
Moses and Aaron are now busy at the work of convincing the Pharaoh of Egypt to let the Hebrews, or people of Israel (at this point a person rather than a country) go out into the wilderness to pray. They aren't even asking for freedom, just a chance to pray. It's Pharaoh's stubbornness and pressing the issue that leads to the title event, and further wandering toward the promised land. Since the time of Abraham they have been living in the lands of others, whether it be Philistines or Canaanites, and until the Egyptians at least to the point of Joseph they have only been able to win the good graces rather than full cooperation of their hosts. Always the struggle. I think the point of the Egyptian bondage might actually be to explain why Egypt never really expanded like other empires. Clearly one of the most notable of the ancient civilizations, leaving a clear and lasting legacy, but in the end not quite like the Greeks or Romans. God says several times that he's making Pharaoh "harden his heart" and make the situation worse in order to make a lasting impression on Egypt. Unlike, say, Romans and the emerging Christian faith, it's not exactly that the result of all this is to make Egyptians into a Hebrew nation.
It's very interesting, too, that although described as Hebrews and therefore part of the Abrahamic tradition, the people Moses and Aaron free are not apparently all that aware of the specifics of their faith, especially how much they're supposed to care about God. This may explain all the bellyaching that will follow, not to mention the Golden Calf episode, or perhaps merely denote that once again, the chroniclers of the Moses tradition were fully aware that there were other gods acknowledged even by God himself, who also makes reference to the Egyptian pantheon whose components have survived to this day in a mythology many people still know plenty about.
The genealogy work I was looking for early finally does show up. Although similar in almost every respect, it's still not really as comprehensive as the family lines described in Genesis. Readers of the Bible may have to wait for the even more exhaustive lineage ascribed to Jesus in the New Testament.
Also at this point God does not seem to need an intermediary of any kind to speak with Moses, although this will be necessary again later. They talk just like anyone else did in Genesis.
Then the inducements begin:
And finally, Pharaoh follows the edict to "let my people go," and the title event finally occurs. But that still not being enough, and perhaps not enough to explain the curious lack of forward momentum on the part of Egypt itself, Moses then parts the Red Sea and then allows it to crash down on the pursuing Egyptian military.
And then my favorite part of this section, which is perhaps the first psalm, a poem about everything that has just occurred, the great victory. It's really pretty awesome and deserves more recognition than I'm currently aware it gets.
Moses and Aaron are now busy at the work of convincing the Pharaoh of Egypt to let the Hebrews, or people of Israel (at this point a person rather than a country) go out into the wilderness to pray. They aren't even asking for freedom, just a chance to pray. It's Pharaoh's stubbornness and pressing the issue that leads to the title event, and further wandering toward the promised land. Since the time of Abraham they have been living in the lands of others, whether it be Philistines or Canaanites, and until the Egyptians at least to the point of Joseph they have only been able to win the good graces rather than full cooperation of their hosts. Always the struggle. I think the point of the Egyptian bondage might actually be to explain why Egypt never really expanded like other empires. Clearly one of the most notable of the ancient civilizations, leaving a clear and lasting legacy, but in the end not quite like the Greeks or Romans. God says several times that he's making Pharaoh "harden his heart" and make the situation worse in order to make a lasting impression on Egypt. Unlike, say, Romans and the emerging Christian faith, it's not exactly that the result of all this is to make Egyptians into a Hebrew nation.
It's very interesting, too, that although described as Hebrews and therefore part of the Abrahamic tradition, the people Moses and Aaron free are not apparently all that aware of the specifics of their faith, especially how much they're supposed to care about God. This may explain all the bellyaching that will follow, not to mention the Golden Calf episode, or perhaps merely denote that once again, the chroniclers of the Moses tradition were fully aware that there were other gods acknowledged even by God himself, who also makes reference to the Egyptian pantheon whose components have survived to this day in a mythology many people still know plenty about.
The genealogy work I was looking for early finally does show up. Although similar in almost every respect, it's still not really as comprehensive as the family lines described in Genesis. Readers of the Bible may have to wait for the even more exhaustive lineage ascribed to Jesus in the New Testament.
Also at this point God does not seem to need an intermediary of any kind to speak with Moses, although this will be necessary again later. They talk just like anyone else did in Genesis.
Then the inducements begin:
- rod-into-snake
- Nile-and-other-water-into-blood
- frogs
- gnats (the first one Pharaoh's magicians couldn't duplicate)
- flies
- livestock plague
- boils
- hail
- locusts
- three days of darkness
- death of the first-borns (carried out by God himself)
And finally, Pharaoh follows the edict to "let my people go," and the title event finally occurs. But that still not being enough, and perhaps not enough to explain the curious lack of forward momentum on the part of Egypt itself, Moses then parts the Red Sea and then allows it to crash down on the pursuing Egyptian military.
And then my favorite part of this section, which is perhaps the first psalm, a poem about everything that has just occurred, the great victory. It's really pretty awesome and deserves more recognition than I'm currently aware it gets.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Genesis 41-50, Exodus 1-4
The grand sweep of Genesis concludes in Egypt as Joseph talks his way out of trouble, interpreting the Pharaoh's dreams and attaining a position just below him in importance. Joseph's brothers come to him and he hides his true identity from them, repeating another pattern in the Bible to this point. He pushes it just far enough to have his kid brother Benjamin placed in the position God had Abraham place Isaac. Different circumstances, same general need to play the ultimate test.
The points I really want to stress, however, are how Joseph and his brothers echo Cain/Abel and Jacob/Esau and even the later Moses/Aaron, and just perhaps Jesus, whose single existence comprised the dual nature of God and man. Which of the two sides wins in the struggle? The point is never really the victory, because victory is sometimes not even possible, but rather to strike a contrast between them, and illustrate God's relationship to man and therefore man's relationship to God. More narrowly, Joseph may simply be called a predecessor to Jesus, how he relates to the Pharaoh, how he represents both himself and his people. His people, by the way, who continue to live, by choice, in exile, but always preferring in personal matters their own. By the end of Genesis, Jacob has died and then Joseph dies, but not before, as Jacob has done before him, prophesying about the future, or in other words the fulfillment of the covenant God has been making with Abraham and his descendants for all prosperity and a land to call their own.
Then begins the second book of the Bible, Exodus, and with it a swift contrast in the fortunes of Hebrews in Egypt. The old pharaoh who came to rely so favorably on Joseph has passed away and the new one greatly fears the shear number of Hebrews living within his kingdom, so he subjugates them rather than allow his fear of a revolt or uprising to come to pass. Like Jesus later, all the male offspring become subject to genocide, but the Hebrews prove crafty and avoid the inevitable fate of their kind, saving their little boys, and of course famously in the case of Moses.
He's sent in a basket down the river and ends up in the Pharaoh's palace, and grows up a regular Joseph, until he remarks on the oppression of his own people, and then goes into exile, finds his birth family, and then incidentally runs into a bush lit by an angel and then inhabited by God, who charges him with the salvation of the oppressed Hebrews, who are suddenly keen to begin looking for that promised land. He doesn't feel up to the task of doing the speaking for himself, so he asks if it's okay that his brother Aaron do it for him. God says it's okay.
The way God presents himself is a key difference, by the way, between Exodus and Genesis. God even gives himself a name, which is later translated for simplicity's sake to Yahweh, although the basic statement is that he is God because he's the only being in creation who's always "is."
What's really notable here is how definitive the transition from Genesis to Exodus really is. Although the circumstances around Joseph serve as a bridge, Exodus makes no attempt at the same kind of genealogical comprehensiveness as Genesis. Moses is left pretty much to appear at random. He is descended from Levi, marking the first point this particular son of Jacob is considered significant, much less in a positive light.
It's just as if Exodus originally stood apart from Genesis, or that it was composed first and Genesis second, like a prequel, to explain where the Hebrews came from in the first place and how their faith developed, or a justification for the new emphasis on finding a homeland, which makes Genesis to become the first work of prophecy in more ways than one in the Bible, assuming there's an equal chance it developed first. It seems as if Moses came about independently, certainly within the awareness of the Abrahamic tradition but separate from it, which is why in the early parts of Genesis some knowledge is implied whereas in the later parts it's inferred. Moses is the start of the Jewish traditions still practiced today. That's why the first books of the Bible are dedicated to him so completely, even Genesis, where he doesn't even appear. The way Christians view the Old Testament is how Jews view Genesis in regard to Moses. He's the whole reason anyone should care about it. Pretty shocking, when you consider how significant most of that material is, at least culturally.
The points I really want to stress, however, are how Joseph and his brothers echo Cain/Abel and Jacob/Esau and even the later Moses/Aaron, and just perhaps Jesus, whose single existence comprised the dual nature of God and man. Which of the two sides wins in the struggle? The point is never really the victory, because victory is sometimes not even possible, but rather to strike a contrast between them, and illustrate God's relationship to man and therefore man's relationship to God. More narrowly, Joseph may simply be called a predecessor to Jesus, how he relates to the Pharaoh, how he represents both himself and his people. His people, by the way, who continue to live, by choice, in exile, but always preferring in personal matters their own. By the end of Genesis, Jacob has died and then Joseph dies, but not before, as Jacob has done before him, prophesying about the future, or in other words the fulfillment of the covenant God has been making with Abraham and his descendants for all prosperity and a land to call their own.
Then begins the second book of the Bible, Exodus, and with it a swift contrast in the fortunes of Hebrews in Egypt. The old pharaoh who came to rely so favorably on Joseph has passed away and the new one greatly fears the shear number of Hebrews living within his kingdom, so he subjugates them rather than allow his fear of a revolt or uprising to come to pass. Like Jesus later, all the male offspring become subject to genocide, but the Hebrews prove crafty and avoid the inevitable fate of their kind, saving their little boys, and of course famously in the case of Moses.
He's sent in a basket down the river and ends up in the Pharaoh's palace, and grows up a regular Joseph, until he remarks on the oppression of his own people, and then goes into exile, finds his birth family, and then incidentally runs into a bush lit by an angel and then inhabited by God, who charges him with the salvation of the oppressed Hebrews, who are suddenly keen to begin looking for that promised land. He doesn't feel up to the task of doing the speaking for himself, so he asks if it's okay that his brother Aaron do it for him. God says it's okay.
The way God presents himself is a key difference, by the way, between Exodus and Genesis. God even gives himself a name, which is later translated for simplicity's sake to Yahweh, although the basic statement is that he is God because he's the only being in creation who's always "is."
What's really notable here is how definitive the transition from Genesis to Exodus really is. Although the circumstances around Joseph serve as a bridge, Exodus makes no attempt at the same kind of genealogical comprehensiveness as Genesis. Moses is left pretty much to appear at random. He is descended from Levi, marking the first point this particular son of Jacob is considered significant, much less in a positive light.
It's just as if Exodus originally stood apart from Genesis, or that it was composed first and Genesis second, like a prequel, to explain where the Hebrews came from in the first place and how their faith developed, or a justification for the new emphasis on finding a homeland, which makes Genesis to become the first work of prophecy in more ways than one in the Bible, assuming there's an equal chance it developed first. It seems as if Moses came about independently, certainly within the awareness of the Abrahamic tradition but separate from it, which is why in the early parts of Genesis some knowledge is implied whereas in the later parts it's inferred. Moses is the start of the Jewish traditions still practiced today. That's why the first books of the Bible are dedicated to him so completely, even Genesis, where he doesn't even appear. The way Christians view the Old Testament is how Jews view Genesis in regard to Moses. He's the whole reason anyone should care about it. Pretty shocking, when you consider how significant most of that material is, at least culturally.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Genesis 21-40
The action picks right back up with Abraham and Sarah, those crazy old founders of the whole Jewish faith, and the birth of Isaac. You'll remember that Abraham has previously had a child with the handmaiden Hagar. Ishmael temporarily reaches a bad end after they're both cast out of paradise, run out of water, and Hagar believes they'll both die, but then God shows up and reiterates that all's well in this family line.
The Philistines enter the picture for the first time, however, as Abraham transports the family to live among them. Then follows one of the most famous episodes in the whole Bible, in which God tests Abraham by asking him to sacrifice his own son Isaac, in what Christians would later suggest is the template for Jesus. Then Sarah dies and makes agreements with the Hittites to use their land for her burial. It's the first time we really get to see how respected Abraham is by others. They quickly acquiesce. Next he barters with Mesopotamians through a proxy for Isaac's future bride, who turns out to be Rebekah. Abraham in turn takes another bride, Keturah. You are probably not familiar with her name because she's not really significant otherwise. And anyway, Abraham is dead himself very soon after in the narrative.
Things become interesting again when you realize that Isaac's sons Jacob and Esau are basically a new version of Cain and Abel, and although you may be familiar with certain inheritance shenanigans Jacob and his mother pull, it's perhaps more intriguing that these brothers manage to make peace with each other despite everything.
A name that keeps popping up in these passages is the Philistine Abimelech, who first interacts with Abraham and then later Isaac. He is perhaps a representation of significant individuals outside of the people we're really supposed to care about. Around this time, Isaac pulls the same trick his father did, calling Rebekah his sister rather than wife, thinking it'll make things easier. But Abimelech is no fool. He correctly surmises that if he treated Rebekah as Isaac's sister rather than wife (to be fair, the whole idea was that Rebekah, like Sarah before her, is incredibly beautiful, and therefore would make every man jealous and therefore uncooperative), he would be falling into sin, like a trap. So Isaac agrees that it was a bad idea.
Around this time in Genesis, names that are supposed to mean something start being explained better, perhaps because these are known entities to the first recipients of the stories, so they're more reminders than things they were supposed to have learned, such as in the case of the name Eve from earlier.
Abimelech also begins to represent those people outside the line of Abraham who understand what's going on faith-wise. They're outsiders acknowledging God, in other words.
Jacob is set up for his own bride, but first experiences the first prophetic vision of the Bible, the famous Jacob's Ladder episode. He soon meets and falls for Rachel, although her father makes marrying her incredibly difficult, to the point where he accidentally marries her older sister Leah first, and then has to marry Rachel later. Because Jacob clearly prefers Rachel, Leah is rejected, but God intervenes by making her womb far more fertile, leading to plenty of offspring and in fact most of the twelve sons who helped found the twelve tribes, including Judah. Rachel eventually has Joseph, however, as well as Benjamin. Joseph of course is the most significant of these children.
Laban, Rachel and Leah's troublemaking father, causes Jacob great anxiety, and in fact a full-blown crisis in which he undertakes great preparations for an all-out confrontation, or at least to avoid one. Laban, for the record, manages to find peace with Jacob all the same. Jacob has another apparent crisis concerning his brother Esau, but they make peace, too. During this, he wrestles with God. I believe it's traditionally described as wrestling with an angel, but as I read it Jacob literally wrestles with God himself, perhaps the last of the notable face-to-face interactions (and then some!) with the Creator.
Although it might also be notable that this section seems to indicate that not only were these people aware of other gods, worshiped by others, but found no great struggle in knowing they existed alongside God. The real point is that God is God Almighty, or other words the supreme divine being (read the First Commandment again if you're wondering how accurate this interpretation is).
Rachel's daughter experiences a rape, leading to holy vengeance on the part of some of Jacob's sons, although after Jacob has already made peace with the culprits, who don't intend to convert to the faith of Abraham. It's the first time a clear distinction is made between a community that will and a community that won't.
God renames Jacob Israel. He also personally smites a few people dead.
The Joseph-and-his-special-gift-of-the-coat episode occurs, which angers his brothers, leading to their plans to get rid of him. He winds up in Egypt, but not before his brothers convince Jacob that Joseph is in fact dead. I suppose it only figures, because Jacob was himself previously guilty of trickery. It's also worth noting that in Egypt we hear the term Hebrew for the first time, that being what the Jews were known as at that time, so Abraham's faith was now fully established. Joseph winds up in prison after refusing to give in to the Pharaoh's wife's sexual desires, but this leads to his experiences with the same kind of prophetic abilities as his father and thus one of the defining themes of the Old Testament, which is revisited in the New Testament.
The Philistines enter the picture for the first time, however, as Abraham transports the family to live among them. Then follows one of the most famous episodes in the whole Bible, in which God tests Abraham by asking him to sacrifice his own son Isaac, in what Christians would later suggest is the template for Jesus. Then Sarah dies and makes agreements with the Hittites to use their land for her burial. It's the first time we really get to see how respected Abraham is by others. They quickly acquiesce. Next he barters with Mesopotamians through a proxy for Isaac's future bride, who turns out to be Rebekah. Abraham in turn takes another bride, Keturah. You are probably not familiar with her name because she's not really significant otherwise. And anyway, Abraham is dead himself very soon after in the narrative.
Things become interesting again when you realize that Isaac's sons Jacob and Esau are basically a new version of Cain and Abel, and although you may be familiar with certain inheritance shenanigans Jacob and his mother pull, it's perhaps more intriguing that these brothers manage to make peace with each other despite everything.
A name that keeps popping up in these passages is the Philistine Abimelech, who first interacts with Abraham and then later Isaac. He is perhaps a representation of significant individuals outside of the people we're really supposed to care about. Around this time, Isaac pulls the same trick his father did, calling Rebekah his sister rather than wife, thinking it'll make things easier. But Abimelech is no fool. He correctly surmises that if he treated Rebekah as Isaac's sister rather than wife (to be fair, the whole idea was that Rebekah, like Sarah before her, is incredibly beautiful, and therefore would make every man jealous and therefore uncooperative), he would be falling into sin, like a trap. So Isaac agrees that it was a bad idea.
Around this time in Genesis, names that are supposed to mean something start being explained better, perhaps because these are known entities to the first recipients of the stories, so they're more reminders than things they were supposed to have learned, such as in the case of the name Eve from earlier.
Abimelech also begins to represent those people outside the line of Abraham who understand what's going on faith-wise. They're outsiders acknowledging God, in other words.
Jacob is set up for his own bride, but first experiences the first prophetic vision of the Bible, the famous Jacob's Ladder episode. He soon meets and falls for Rachel, although her father makes marrying her incredibly difficult, to the point where he accidentally marries her older sister Leah first, and then has to marry Rachel later. Because Jacob clearly prefers Rachel, Leah is rejected, but God intervenes by making her womb far more fertile, leading to plenty of offspring and in fact most of the twelve sons who helped found the twelve tribes, including Judah. Rachel eventually has Joseph, however, as well as Benjamin. Joseph of course is the most significant of these children.
Laban, Rachel and Leah's troublemaking father, causes Jacob great anxiety, and in fact a full-blown crisis in which he undertakes great preparations for an all-out confrontation, or at least to avoid one. Laban, for the record, manages to find peace with Jacob all the same. Jacob has another apparent crisis concerning his brother Esau, but they make peace, too. During this, he wrestles with God. I believe it's traditionally described as wrestling with an angel, but as I read it Jacob literally wrestles with God himself, perhaps the last of the notable face-to-face interactions (and then some!) with the Creator.
Although it might also be notable that this section seems to indicate that not only were these people aware of other gods, worshiped by others, but found no great struggle in knowing they existed alongside God. The real point is that God is God Almighty, or other words the supreme divine being (read the First Commandment again if you're wondering how accurate this interpretation is).
Rachel's daughter experiences a rape, leading to holy vengeance on the part of some of Jacob's sons, although after Jacob has already made peace with the culprits, who don't intend to convert to the faith of Abraham. It's the first time a clear distinction is made between a community that will and a community that won't.
God renames Jacob Israel. He also personally smites a few people dead.
The Joseph-and-his-special-gift-of-the-coat episode occurs, which angers his brothers, leading to their plans to get rid of him. He winds up in Egypt, but not before his brothers convince Jacob that Joseph is in fact dead. I suppose it only figures, because Jacob was himself previously guilty of trickery. It's also worth noting that in Egypt we hear the term Hebrew for the first time, that being what the Jews were known as at that time, so Abraham's faith was now fully established. Joseph winds up in prison after refusing to give in to the Pharaoh's wife's sexual desires, but this leads to his experiences with the same kind of prophetic abilities as his father and thus one of the defining themes of the Old Testament, which is revisited in the New Testament.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Genesis 1-20
Genesis is, as the title has come to mean as a word in general, the foundation. We begin with the story of how the world was made, and then the introduction of man and woman. Among the interesting quirks to be found is the fact that the names Adam and Eve are not used when man and woman are first introduced. It's Eve whose name is featured first, and as such is the first of many ways Genesis seeks to explain the origin of things Jews would have already known but perhaps didn't remember where they'd come from, sort of like Greek myth with such terms as narcissus and halcyon days or even the phrase "between a rock and a hard place" (Scylla and Charybdis, in other words, from The Odyssey). Even the part of how she's formed from Adam's rib seems to be a way of explaining the old "chicken and the egg" riddle in a rather ingenius way. It's just as striking to read the way Cain's story is described, almost as a way of explaining not so much the first murder but defining the difference between God's people (the Jews) and those who aren't (everyone else).
The garden, with its famous attributes of the Tree of Good & Evil (which symbolizes independent knowledge) and the Tree of Life (which is the real reason Adam and Eve are banished from Eden, so they no longer have a chance to access it and therefore theoretically still have a chance to undo the damage caused by the fruit, which is not so much a case of repudiating God's will as being a kind of his equal, the same way theology tells us Satan came into being because he was an angel who tried comparing himself to God, much as the story of the Tower of Babel is about man once more attempting to reach beyond his ken), is less a source of banishment and more a kind of exile, the homeland the Jews would spend their days trying to find someplace else.
There are several notable starts and stops, as others have observed, where the story seems to repeat in order for an oral tradition to have kept it easier for the listener to comprehend. It's the repetitions that create the emphasis, but otherwise you may know what's most important when the narrative pauses on certain individuals, Eve and then Cain, for instance. When Seth is described as being in Adam's image, it's a reminder of what God created in the first place, and not to say he looks more like Adam than Cain or Abel. That Cain's offering wasn't as pleasing to God as Abel's, and God's way of urging Cain on even while admitting he probably wouldn't have accepted it anyway is another way of describing the basic difference between the Jews (who carry God's mandate) and everyone else (who don't have that same relationship).
The tenets of Jewish faith start to solidify around Noah. What does it mean when God says humanity has grown wicked? That its relationship to him has been all but forgotten. In the early days God always had someone he could talk to directly, whether it was Adam and Eve or Cain (it's striking that God spends so much time talking to Cain, when he's the simple of rejection in any other context). The idea of sin is that it entertains destructive thoughts above all others, and it considers life only as suffering, when God originally gave mankind the idea of toiling for its sustenance as a challenge to be overcome. Mankind ceased to want to overcome its challenges, and so God gave it apparently what it wanted, believing humanity to after all have been a failed experiment. He decided to bring the whole thing to an end. Except he discovered Noah, who kept the original tradition alive, and accepted the biggest human challenge ever in the building of the ark and the preservation of all life via representatives within it, recreating the conditions of Eden. If it hadn't been for Noah, if there had not been one human still capable of the original relationship between God and man, that would be the whole story right there.
It is a little sketchy how later generations started extrapolating a lot of their beliefs from incidents they assumed to be precedents. The idea that Africans were born to be slaves was taken from a curse Noah leveled against Ham. Patently ridiculous. In those days slavery would have been common, an entirely acceptable form of relationship between man. These were imperfect times. God didn't condemn Cain for murder, but rather used him as an example of those who stood apart. It wasn't until Moses where the commandment said "Thou shalt not kill," which is not to say that until then murder was acceptable, but that all sins become multiplied the larger the community grows, at least in those days, although ironically they become less offensive as the community grows larger still. Their impact lessens, becomes less about the community and more about the individual. All sin is best understood in how it impacts the community as a whole. That's why Christians have Jesus's Golden Rule to live by, which states the community is the most important thing, a mutually beneficial relationship between individuals, the closest humans can come to the perfect balance that is God's existence.
Woman is another fine distinction. Some people (men) take a lot of the early roles women take in the Bible to mean that woman is inherently inferior to man. It was Eve who caused original sin. It was Sarah who was the feisty troublemaker. And yet they were only performing necessary functions, much as Cain did. These people would have a far stronger case if Cain had been female. But then they would still be committing the same logical fallacy.
After Noah the basic foundations of the greater communities are related, and by the time of Abram the first wars are described, so that it's no longer about specific individuals but rather nations, such as they would have been in the Jewish tradition. It's interesting to note that Sodom and Gomorrah (from the descendants of Ham, no less) are described basically as the German state following WWI. They end up on the losing end of the conflict and are impoverished and basically subservient as a result. One of Abram's good deeds is to show them lenience. Yet they are the next most famous site of God's apparent wrath. They happen to be home to Abram's cousin Lot, who becomes a sort of Noah in being singled out to survive a purge.
It may also be worth noting the previously and very briefly described Nimrod, who is like a prototypical Samson, or even predecessor to Abram; or the oblique reference to a man named Peleg, whose significance is not really explained other than in an indecipherable comment, much like the existence of the Nephilim in the time of Noah.
Anyway, Sodom and Gomorrah are, like Cain, symbolic of the peoples who were definitely not Jewish. They were presumably all turned to salt, like Lot's wife was when she lingered to have a look despite warnings against doing so. Around this time angels begin to be referenced as God's earthly agents, a gage of how strong someone's connection to him really is. Abram passes it. Lot passes it. Sodom and Gomorrah do not.
Interestingly, Abram's first son isn't to his wife Sarai but to the handmaiden Hagar, which results in the birth of Ishmael. Abram is the first of the Jews to travel to Egypt, which is the scene of Sarai's first bit of mischief. Abram, however, is partially responsible for this, as he correctly guesses they'd have a better time of it if she were represented as his sister rather than wife. She was apparently a great beauty in her youth, and the Egyptians would have been wildly jealous of Abram and thus not particularly receptive to his needs at the time. Sarai plays the part a little too well, too eagerly, perhaps. The Egyptians find out what's really going on, and expel the Jews. No doubt setting a precedent in the relationship they remember years later.
The relationship between Abram and Lot appears geared toward illustrating better than some of the strict genealogy work elsewhere how different tribes helped spread the Jewish state. They are described more or less as equals in prosperity, and clearly they both have excellent working relationships with God, who is so keen on them he sets up the whole Jewish faith around them, specifically promising Abram (and even Ishmael) the kind of prosperity the whole faith has since geared its entire outlook on, its idea of the messiah.
And that explains the key difference between the Jewish and Christian faiths. The Jews always expected the last and greatest of their leaders to create a lasting earthly paradise. That's why their key figures were men like Abraham, David, and Solomon (the new Cain in a lot of ways). When Jesus came around and flipped that message, explaining that in effect the endless years of struggle would be exactly what any human could ever expect in life, that paradise existed elsewhere, it was a giant repudiation of the whole thing. And then Muslims come along and basically try to say it's both ways, and so you can see how none of them particularly gets along with each other.
Jesus, by the way, was very carefully described to have descended from the line of Shem, Noah's chosen heir, whose line in turn includes Abraham. Insofar as that, and every other way he was described as the answer to all the classic scripture, the Christians did everything they could to make him square with Jewish faith. Except making him an earthly king.
It's very easy to see how outsider perspectives could view all of this as the same as any other old religion, which we know of as myth. There's the origin of the rainbow as something other than scientifically explained. There's the reason circumcision exists, one of the key cultural developments for Jews. There's, in effect, everything necessary to explain why things had to develop in the way they did, the relationships and precedents. Not to mention the extremely long-lived folk of the early days. When fundamentalists try to explain how the world is as young as it apparently must be according to the genealogies of the Bible, they don't really take into account the nuances that are in-between the lines. Cain finds a new home and apparently people unrelated to his father. This would be patently impossible given a strict interpretation. Genesis does not go out of its way to describe every single individual and how they came to be. To simply accept that all those people lived to be 900+ is to believe what it means to us today is what it meant when these stories were first told. This is not to say the truth of it is invalidated, but rather the cultural significance becomes different over time, much in the way it was assumed everyone would automatically know exactly what it was meant when the name "Eve" was supposed to explain itself.
You will always walk into a heap of trouble when you interpret things too literally, all the time believing what appears to you to be obvious is in fact the correct version. Ham did not validate the existence of African slaves.
This is what you can expect from my so-called "objective believer" approach to the Bible.
Abram becomes Abraham (and, really, we don't tend to give him nearly enough credit for how expansive his story in Genesis really is; it's to that point the longest narrative of the Bible, clearly the most important one), Sarai becomes Sarah. Hagar was Egyptian, by the way. I'm sure there's great significance to that somewhere. I'm not a theologian. This is all independent thought.
I was originally intending to make a note of all my observations, including the far less famous elements, but I guess hitting the bigger points is just as well. I'm not intending to anger anyone's religious beliefs here, or convince you to believe where you don't already. This is my perspective. Take it as such.
The garden, with its famous attributes of the Tree of Good & Evil (which symbolizes independent knowledge) and the Tree of Life (which is the real reason Adam and Eve are banished from Eden, so they no longer have a chance to access it and therefore theoretically still have a chance to undo the damage caused by the fruit, which is not so much a case of repudiating God's will as being a kind of his equal, the same way theology tells us Satan came into being because he was an angel who tried comparing himself to God, much as the story of the Tower of Babel is about man once more attempting to reach beyond his ken), is less a source of banishment and more a kind of exile, the homeland the Jews would spend their days trying to find someplace else.
There are several notable starts and stops, as others have observed, where the story seems to repeat in order for an oral tradition to have kept it easier for the listener to comprehend. It's the repetitions that create the emphasis, but otherwise you may know what's most important when the narrative pauses on certain individuals, Eve and then Cain, for instance. When Seth is described as being in Adam's image, it's a reminder of what God created in the first place, and not to say he looks more like Adam than Cain or Abel. That Cain's offering wasn't as pleasing to God as Abel's, and God's way of urging Cain on even while admitting he probably wouldn't have accepted it anyway is another way of describing the basic difference between the Jews (who carry God's mandate) and everyone else (who don't have that same relationship).
The tenets of Jewish faith start to solidify around Noah. What does it mean when God says humanity has grown wicked? That its relationship to him has been all but forgotten. In the early days God always had someone he could talk to directly, whether it was Adam and Eve or Cain (it's striking that God spends so much time talking to Cain, when he's the simple of rejection in any other context). The idea of sin is that it entertains destructive thoughts above all others, and it considers life only as suffering, when God originally gave mankind the idea of toiling for its sustenance as a challenge to be overcome. Mankind ceased to want to overcome its challenges, and so God gave it apparently what it wanted, believing humanity to after all have been a failed experiment. He decided to bring the whole thing to an end. Except he discovered Noah, who kept the original tradition alive, and accepted the biggest human challenge ever in the building of the ark and the preservation of all life via representatives within it, recreating the conditions of Eden. If it hadn't been for Noah, if there had not been one human still capable of the original relationship between God and man, that would be the whole story right there.
It is a little sketchy how later generations started extrapolating a lot of their beliefs from incidents they assumed to be precedents. The idea that Africans were born to be slaves was taken from a curse Noah leveled against Ham. Patently ridiculous. In those days slavery would have been common, an entirely acceptable form of relationship between man. These were imperfect times. God didn't condemn Cain for murder, but rather used him as an example of those who stood apart. It wasn't until Moses where the commandment said "Thou shalt not kill," which is not to say that until then murder was acceptable, but that all sins become multiplied the larger the community grows, at least in those days, although ironically they become less offensive as the community grows larger still. Their impact lessens, becomes less about the community and more about the individual. All sin is best understood in how it impacts the community as a whole. That's why Christians have Jesus's Golden Rule to live by, which states the community is the most important thing, a mutually beneficial relationship between individuals, the closest humans can come to the perfect balance that is God's existence.
Woman is another fine distinction. Some people (men) take a lot of the early roles women take in the Bible to mean that woman is inherently inferior to man. It was Eve who caused original sin. It was Sarah who was the feisty troublemaker. And yet they were only performing necessary functions, much as Cain did. These people would have a far stronger case if Cain had been female. But then they would still be committing the same logical fallacy.
After Noah the basic foundations of the greater communities are related, and by the time of Abram the first wars are described, so that it's no longer about specific individuals but rather nations, such as they would have been in the Jewish tradition. It's interesting to note that Sodom and Gomorrah (from the descendants of Ham, no less) are described basically as the German state following WWI. They end up on the losing end of the conflict and are impoverished and basically subservient as a result. One of Abram's good deeds is to show them lenience. Yet they are the next most famous site of God's apparent wrath. They happen to be home to Abram's cousin Lot, who becomes a sort of Noah in being singled out to survive a purge.
It may also be worth noting the previously and very briefly described Nimrod, who is like a prototypical Samson, or even predecessor to Abram; or the oblique reference to a man named Peleg, whose significance is not really explained other than in an indecipherable comment, much like the existence of the Nephilim in the time of Noah.
Anyway, Sodom and Gomorrah are, like Cain, symbolic of the peoples who were definitely not Jewish. They were presumably all turned to salt, like Lot's wife was when she lingered to have a look despite warnings against doing so. Around this time angels begin to be referenced as God's earthly agents, a gage of how strong someone's connection to him really is. Abram passes it. Lot passes it. Sodom and Gomorrah do not.
Interestingly, Abram's first son isn't to his wife Sarai but to the handmaiden Hagar, which results in the birth of Ishmael. Abram is the first of the Jews to travel to Egypt, which is the scene of Sarai's first bit of mischief. Abram, however, is partially responsible for this, as he correctly guesses they'd have a better time of it if she were represented as his sister rather than wife. She was apparently a great beauty in her youth, and the Egyptians would have been wildly jealous of Abram and thus not particularly receptive to his needs at the time. Sarai plays the part a little too well, too eagerly, perhaps. The Egyptians find out what's really going on, and expel the Jews. No doubt setting a precedent in the relationship they remember years later.
The relationship between Abram and Lot appears geared toward illustrating better than some of the strict genealogy work elsewhere how different tribes helped spread the Jewish state. They are described more or less as equals in prosperity, and clearly they both have excellent working relationships with God, who is so keen on them he sets up the whole Jewish faith around them, specifically promising Abram (and even Ishmael) the kind of prosperity the whole faith has since geared its entire outlook on, its idea of the messiah.
And that explains the key difference between the Jewish and Christian faiths. The Jews always expected the last and greatest of their leaders to create a lasting earthly paradise. That's why their key figures were men like Abraham, David, and Solomon (the new Cain in a lot of ways). When Jesus came around and flipped that message, explaining that in effect the endless years of struggle would be exactly what any human could ever expect in life, that paradise existed elsewhere, it was a giant repudiation of the whole thing. And then Muslims come along and basically try to say it's both ways, and so you can see how none of them particularly gets along with each other.
Jesus, by the way, was very carefully described to have descended from the line of Shem, Noah's chosen heir, whose line in turn includes Abraham. Insofar as that, and every other way he was described as the answer to all the classic scripture, the Christians did everything they could to make him square with Jewish faith. Except making him an earthly king.
It's very easy to see how outsider perspectives could view all of this as the same as any other old religion, which we know of as myth. There's the origin of the rainbow as something other than scientifically explained. There's the reason circumcision exists, one of the key cultural developments for Jews. There's, in effect, everything necessary to explain why things had to develop in the way they did, the relationships and precedents. Not to mention the extremely long-lived folk of the early days. When fundamentalists try to explain how the world is as young as it apparently must be according to the genealogies of the Bible, they don't really take into account the nuances that are in-between the lines. Cain finds a new home and apparently people unrelated to his father. This would be patently impossible given a strict interpretation. Genesis does not go out of its way to describe every single individual and how they came to be. To simply accept that all those people lived to be 900+ is to believe what it means to us today is what it meant when these stories were first told. This is not to say the truth of it is invalidated, but rather the cultural significance becomes different over time, much in the way it was assumed everyone would automatically know exactly what it was meant when the name "Eve" was supposed to explain itself.
You will always walk into a heap of trouble when you interpret things too literally, all the time believing what appears to you to be obvious is in fact the correct version. Ham did not validate the existence of African slaves.
This is what you can expect from my so-called "objective believer" approach to the Bible.
Abram becomes Abraham (and, really, we don't tend to give him nearly enough credit for how expansive his story in Genesis really is; it's to that point the longest narrative of the Bible, clearly the most important one), Sarai becomes Sarah. Hagar was Egyptian, by the way. I'm sure there's great significance to that somewhere. I'm not a theologian. This is all independent thought.
I was originally intending to make a note of all my observations, including the far less famous elements, but I guess hitting the bigger points is just as well. I'm not intending to anger anyone's religious beliefs here, or convince you to believe where you don't already. This is my perspective. Take it as such.
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