Something Different on the Body; More on Wright's Jewish Backgrounds
I had meant to post something about Wright's book and my issues with Providence in ancient Jewish history as it's reflected in the Hebrew Bible. I still may, but something else has come up I want to share. This blog, for better or worse, started by 'going there,' wherever 'there' might be, and I see no reason not to do so again. Learning to share my feelings saved my life at one time and I figure I owe it to myself to continue the process.
I turn 42 next month. On 9/11 to be exact. My stepson (whom I call my son, though he still calls me Troy after nearly ten years) is entering high school in about a week. Steph and I have no other children, no biological children. I am afraid of most things, and I am surely afraid of having a baby, of raising an infant, of the 24/7 responsibility and work. Still, after the original 9/11, mostly because we were sick of birth control in one form or another but also because we felt we might like to try for a child, we quit using any form of contraception. That was almost five years ago. We have not gotten pregnant.
And now I, we, are considering the Great Snip. Actually, I think it's something like Snip Burn Stitch, Snip Burn Stitch, but that sounds most non amenable, like a grape jolly rancher dropped into an otherwise perfect gin tonic. I'll stick with Great Snip. The doctor told me today it is essentially non-reversible, and that I needed to be sure I didn't want any more children. I'm only partially sure, gang, and that is a bit of a rub, but there is even bigger news to follow, news which takes the Great Snip off the radar for a bit.
During the examination he discovered a lump in my, uh, well, you know. He asked me if I had noticed it before, I said no, and he said before we proceed with scheduling the vaz (as those in the biz seem to call it) he wanted an ultrasound. I go in this Monday at 1:00. From there either a biopsy or nothing, depending on what the ultrasound shows. The lump could be meaningless; it could hold great meaning. I won't know for a while, as long as two weeks (though I like to think if something looks suspicious he'll call before the follow up visit).
I have never been here.
I had an off liver number a couple years ago, probably nothing, the re-test two months later was normal. I've panicked over death many times, but never over a rational signal. Oddly, airplanes, deadly germs and rare contagious diseases, the things that are not likely to ever kill me scare me. The 'real' stuff...well, this is my first brush.
And it's probably only a faint brush. I read about Lance Armstrong and his nuts were pratically falling off before he got help; he had tumors in his lungs and brain and everyplace from the disease. Me, all I have is a little lump, and it's above, not on, the testicle, which is usually important; also, I'm 41 not 31. I think young men are the ones who usually get the actual disease. Right now, though, I don't have anything else to say. I'm tired; I want to read. I told my wife on the phone and tried to minimize it (at this stage it really is minimal) but I could tell she was a little scared. I couldn't not tell her until I had my results!
***
And now for something completely different.
As I wrap up the section in Wright's book on ancient Judaism, on its expectations and hopes, I don't know where he'll head next. The final sections of the book are on the first century of Christian history, and this interests me more than anything. But what am I to make of ancient Judaism and its connection to Jesus?
Surely Jesus was Jewish. Born a Jew. If he was God's unique messenger in history, even the incarnation of God himself, he came to Palestine, not India or Rome or Greece. Why? This is a great puzzle for me at this time. So far at least, Wright has shown that there was no simple messianic expectation among Jews. Yet while beliefs among the Jews of this period were clearly varied, there was a general belief that God would act, in history, to rescue/redeem/elevate the Jews (or a particular chosen-set within them). Even at this early stage in my reading, it seems vividly clear the Jews expected something different from what Christians claimed Jesus was. And surely, if Jesus was not God's redemption, what the Jewish nation got from Titus Flavius was the stark opposite of what they expected from their God. Josephus, for any number of political and personal reasons, was convinced the Jewish God had gone over to the Romans; I can see why.
How will Wright dovetail this into Christian belief that Jesus was God's salvation, the beginning of the kingdom of God, walking in the flesh? I admit I'm anticipating reading further. But for the moment, my own faith is vaguely uncentered on the intellectual plane.
One thing I will say: Albert Schweitzer was the first NT critic I read. And I found his apocalyptic reading of Christ powerful indeed. It's true Schweitzer, famously, denied the supernatural component of the gospels, denied God, really, and instead used the Christian NT, even his quirky reading of it, perhaps precisely his quirky reading, as a force to launch him into a life of sacrifical service. As he writes in another of his books, over and over, humans are life among other life, all of which wishes to live. It was his categorical non-transcendent ethic.
But many readers, myself included, have seen Schweitzer's proclamation that Jesus and the early Christians expected the world to end imminently as a strange and embarrassing puzzle (for of course it seems it hasn't). Wright has managed to convince me, though he hasn't yet discussed any of the gospel texts, that the majority of Jews during this ear expected no such thing, that apocalyptic language was eminently symbolic, that they expected, if anything, a likely military overthrow of the pagan powers which oppressed them. If not military, some process by which Israel would (finally) be 'on top' and free; the Temple would be rebuilt/restored by someone who was not the shockingly impious Herod; the sins of the nation which had kept them in exile or under occupation would be expiated at long last. A second Exodus, only this would be a restoration of the land they were already in.
Views on individual resurrection after death varied, but it seems most Jews felt the members of the covenant, the true Jews, would be raised to experience this new kingdom when it arrived. This is not Platonism, or Hellenism; it really isn't Christianity either. As I said, I am eager to see where Wright proceeds from here (who, regardless of the fact that he is now an Anglican Bishop, I believe is a Christian).
But I must finally (with some thanks, I admit) toss aside my respect for Schweitzer's thesis (not necessarily Schweitzer the man). Wright is not alone in his critique of Schweitzer, and the case he collects is very strong, drawing on much recent scholarship. At least, I think this is where Wright is headed. As I said, I haven't even gotten to his discussion of the gospels. But already, reading the apocalyptic texts, it seems, plainly, Schweitzer read the NT without understand the nature/background of the apocalyptic he (correctly) saw in so many passages. I was wrong also.
But this by no means solves the puzzle of how God of the universe might have actually acted, through Jesus, for the Jewish nation. Of course, the very earliest Christians taught that Jesus came not just for the Jewish nation, but to offer God's love and salvation, life and grace, to all nations, all men and women. That, without question, is clear throughout the NT. And while I am far from an expert, I don't see the universal nature of the offer as something Paul made up, either, though that is an interesting question. Some of the early Christians may have been holding on to the Jewish marks of covenant (like circumcision or dietary restraint) but it seems they yielded fairly quickly to Paul's pressure to abandon them to further the missionary purpose.
Anyway, as I said, I'm over my head in this water. If Wright is teaching me one thing, it's to be less opinionated until I halfway know what the hell I'm talking about. I can't stick to that completely, or wouldn't be blogging for another decade at least, but it's an attitude worth personal cultivation.
***
I think that's it for now. I'm very moved by Victor's comment to my post below. I will get and read the book he recommends (though it may take a few weeks or months with school beginning soon). I too have shot hate-bullets: at Christians when I thought I was one and when I knew I wasn't.
It's actually Saturday afternoon now; I've two-sitting blogged, and my ultrasound test is that much closer. Not close enough. I would like it to be over. Steph was very upset yesterday though she hid it from me well. Truly, it's probably nothing. But times like this allow a reflection on life and relationship which is as precious as it is difficult.
Love to all.
I turn 42 next month. On 9/11 to be exact. My stepson (whom I call my son, though he still calls me Troy after nearly ten years) is entering high school in about a week. Steph and I have no other children, no biological children. I am afraid of most things, and I am surely afraid of having a baby, of raising an infant, of the 24/7 responsibility and work. Still, after the original 9/11, mostly because we were sick of birth control in one form or another but also because we felt we might like to try for a child, we quit using any form of contraception. That was almost five years ago. We have not gotten pregnant.
And now I, we, are considering the Great Snip. Actually, I think it's something like Snip Burn Stitch, Snip Burn Stitch, but that sounds most non amenable, like a grape jolly rancher dropped into an otherwise perfect gin tonic. I'll stick with Great Snip. The doctor told me today it is essentially non-reversible, and that I needed to be sure I didn't want any more children. I'm only partially sure, gang, and that is a bit of a rub, but there is even bigger news to follow, news which takes the Great Snip off the radar for a bit.
During the examination he discovered a lump in my, uh, well, you know. He asked me if I had noticed it before, I said no, and he said before we proceed with scheduling the vaz (as those in the biz seem to call it) he wanted an ultrasound. I go in this Monday at 1:00. From there either a biopsy or nothing, depending on what the ultrasound shows. The lump could be meaningless; it could hold great meaning. I won't know for a while, as long as two weeks (though I like to think if something looks suspicious he'll call before the follow up visit).
I have never been here.
I had an off liver number a couple years ago, probably nothing, the re-test two months later was normal. I've panicked over death many times, but never over a rational signal. Oddly, airplanes, deadly germs and rare contagious diseases, the things that are not likely to ever kill me scare me. The 'real' stuff...well, this is my first brush.
And it's probably only a faint brush. I read about Lance Armstrong and his nuts were pratically falling off before he got help; he had tumors in his lungs and brain and everyplace from the disease. Me, all I have is a little lump, and it's above, not on, the testicle, which is usually important; also, I'm 41 not 31. I think young men are the ones who usually get the actual disease. Right now, though, I don't have anything else to say. I'm tired; I want to read. I told my wife on the phone and tried to minimize it (at this stage it really is minimal) but I could tell she was a little scared. I couldn't not tell her until I had my results!
***
And now for something completely different.
As I wrap up the section in Wright's book on ancient Judaism, on its expectations and hopes, I don't know where he'll head next. The final sections of the book are on the first century of Christian history, and this interests me more than anything. But what am I to make of ancient Judaism and its connection to Jesus?
Surely Jesus was Jewish. Born a Jew. If he was God's unique messenger in history, even the incarnation of God himself, he came to Palestine, not India or Rome or Greece. Why? This is a great puzzle for me at this time. So far at least, Wright has shown that there was no simple messianic expectation among Jews. Yet while beliefs among the Jews of this period were clearly varied, there was a general belief that God would act, in history, to rescue/redeem/elevate the Jews (or a particular chosen-set within them). Even at this early stage in my reading, it seems vividly clear the Jews expected something different from what Christians claimed Jesus was. And surely, if Jesus was not God's redemption, what the Jewish nation got from Titus Flavius was the stark opposite of what they expected from their God. Josephus, for any number of political and personal reasons, was convinced the Jewish God had gone over to the Romans; I can see why.
How will Wright dovetail this into Christian belief that Jesus was God's salvation, the beginning of the kingdom of God, walking in the flesh? I admit I'm anticipating reading further. But for the moment, my own faith is vaguely uncentered on the intellectual plane.
One thing I will say: Albert Schweitzer was the first NT critic I read. And I found his apocalyptic reading of Christ powerful indeed. It's true Schweitzer, famously, denied the supernatural component of the gospels, denied God, really, and instead used the Christian NT, even his quirky reading of it, perhaps precisely his quirky reading, as a force to launch him into a life of sacrifical service. As he writes in another of his books, over and over, humans are life among other life, all of which wishes to live. It was his categorical non-transcendent ethic.
But many readers, myself included, have seen Schweitzer's proclamation that Jesus and the early Christians expected the world to end imminently as a strange and embarrassing puzzle (for of course it seems it hasn't). Wright has managed to convince me, though he hasn't yet discussed any of the gospel texts, that the majority of Jews during this ear expected no such thing, that apocalyptic language was eminently symbolic, that they expected, if anything, a likely military overthrow of the pagan powers which oppressed them. If not military, some process by which Israel would (finally) be 'on top' and free; the Temple would be rebuilt/restored by someone who was not the shockingly impious Herod; the sins of the nation which had kept them in exile or under occupation would be expiated at long last. A second Exodus, only this would be a restoration of the land they were already in.
Views on individual resurrection after death varied, but it seems most Jews felt the members of the covenant, the true Jews, would be raised to experience this new kingdom when it arrived. This is not Platonism, or Hellenism; it really isn't Christianity either. As I said, I am eager to see where Wright proceeds from here (who, regardless of the fact that he is now an Anglican Bishop, I believe is a Christian).
But I must finally (with some thanks, I admit) toss aside my respect for Schweitzer's thesis (not necessarily Schweitzer the man). Wright is not alone in his critique of Schweitzer, and the case he collects is very strong, drawing on much recent scholarship. At least, I think this is where Wright is headed. As I said, I haven't even gotten to his discussion of the gospels. But already, reading the apocalyptic texts, it seems, plainly, Schweitzer read the NT without understand the nature/background of the apocalyptic he (correctly) saw in so many passages. I was wrong also.
But this by no means solves the puzzle of how God of the universe might have actually acted, through Jesus, for the Jewish nation. Of course, the very earliest Christians taught that Jesus came not just for the Jewish nation, but to offer God's love and salvation, life and grace, to all nations, all men and women. That, without question, is clear throughout the NT. And while I am far from an expert, I don't see the universal nature of the offer as something Paul made up, either, though that is an interesting question. Some of the early Christians may have been holding on to the Jewish marks of covenant (like circumcision or dietary restraint) but it seems they yielded fairly quickly to Paul's pressure to abandon them to further the missionary purpose.
Anyway, as I said, I'm over my head in this water. If Wright is teaching me one thing, it's to be less opinionated until I halfway know what the hell I'm talking about. I can't stick to that completely, or wouldn't be blogging for another decade at least, but it's an attitude worth personal cultivation.
***
I think that's it for now. I'm very moved by Victor's comment to my post below. I will get and read the book he recommends (though it may take a few weeks or months with school beginning soon). I too have shot hate-bullets: at Christians when I thought I was one and when I knew I wasn't.
It's actually Saturday afternoon now; I've two-sitting blogged, and my ultrasound test is that much closer. Not close enough. I would like it to be over. Steph was very upset yesterday though she hid it from me well. Truly, it's probably nothing. But times like this allow a reflection on life and relationship which is as precious as it is difficult.
Love to all.
Comments
Was what the Christians in Rome got from Nero pretty much what they expected from their God, now that God had acted through Christ?
and the heavens are the work of your hands.
11They will perish, but you remain;
they will all wear out like a garment.
12You will roll them up like a robe;
like a garment they will be changed.'
To change a garment means to discard a garment, and put on a new garment , doesn't it? You don't 'change' garments by patching up the old ones.
Clearly Hebrews thought the world would be discarded and recreated, in constrast to God, who is never discarded.
I believe you are the first skeptic to post on my blog. I'm not sure whether to say congratulations or welcome or both. I write personal reflection up here as my own ideas grow; dialogue with someone who challenges my ideas is sure to be good for me (in the long run at least).
On the first point: I am myself stressing the irony I see between Israel's expection of a triumphant messiah or nation, or at least rescue from oppression and/or reunification of the tribes (the former in Daniel 2, 7, 9, the latter many others places in the prophets), and what they got in the Roman war: the ability to never practice Torah fully in the face of the temple's destruction when many felt they were still oppressed because they were not good at Torah. This is a very real and tragic irony (and for me, draws into question "innerrancy"). Christians, at least in the portions of the NT I know, seem nailed to their faith (excuse the pun) in spite of persecution. In other words, Jesus is clear in the synoptics: following me is not going to make you popular or keep you from harm in this life. In fact, ominously, he promises the opposite. In short, Nero's persecution (in 64, I believe, apparent evidence the Christian faith had spread to Rome) fulfills what the gospel tradition itself says to expect (though the synoptics may have been relying on Nero and other persecutions), what Paul himself took a strange pride in: you can expect violent opposition at times. Christians, often held to their faith because they believed their religion reached beyond death itself.
Your question may be, why does God/Jesus allow Christians to suffer, often for no reason, in this life? Why does he allow any suffering? That I cannot answer. But I do know Jesus never promised a succesful political or military kindgom; he said we could expect to be persecuted just as he was persecuted.
On the second point:
I will embarass myself by admitting I haven't yet read Hebrews, certainly not in its totality in any scholarly way. But the passage in Hebrews I note is from Psalms, and the psalmist is comparing the transitory nature of the universe with the permanance of God. It's not a passage taken from Jewish apocalyptic; it does not involve the apocalytptic language Jesus uses in the synoptics which was my concern in my post. I'm no scholar, but Sanders (who I do not believe is a Christian) and Wright and others believe the 20th century took a wrong term in its interpretation of apocalyptic language in the gospels, and I tend to agree.
Now, does this verse in the Psalms, quoted in Hebrews, mean the space-time world will end at some point? Perhaps so. But I'm afraid I still hold a relatively low view of Scripture. Just because an ancient poet writes figurative language where he imagines God putting on or taking off the universe like a garment...to me that doesn't mean that the universe really is a garment or that it will be discarded like one. Just because a first-century Christian appropriates it doesn't mean he got it right either. I know Wright has said he believes God is trying to do something with the world as it is; that Hebrew creationalism will be fulfilled through Christ's mission. I'm not yet convinced of this. I hope he's right. Frankly, I don't know. I will continue to think about this and thanks for pointing me to an interesting passage.
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