Wooing the Woman at the Well: Gospel for the Third Sunday of Lent

The Gospel reading for this Sunday, if your local parish is following the readings for RCIA, is the "Woman at the Well" (John 4).

This is one of the key texts in the Gospel of John that present to us Jesus as the Bridegroom Messiah.

Recall that the Gospel of John begins with an enumeration of seven days, with a wedding on the seventh (the Wedding at Cana, John 2:1-11). There is probably an intentional parallel here to the creation story, in which Adam is created on the sixth day, falls asleep, and wakes up (on the seventh day?) and, seeing Eve, pronounces the covenant words ("bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh") with establishes the first marital covenant. The only identified characters at the Wedding at Cana are Jesus and Mary, whom the Church recognizes as the New Adam and New Eve.

In the following chapter (John 3), John the Baptist explicitly identifies Jesus as the Bridegroom.

Now in chapter 4, Jesus is traveling through Samaria and sits down by a well.

The minute Jesus sits down by the well, the reader familiar with the Old Testament expects a woman to show up. The reader is not disappointed: here she comes (John 4:7). Recall that Jacob and Moses both met their wives at a well, and that Abraham's servant found Rebecca for Isaac at a well. Moreover, the well in John 4 is identified as "Jacob's Well". Although it was clearly not the same well where Jacob met Rachel (which would have been in Northwest Mesopotamia), there was a tradition that this well near Sychar was in fact that very same well, which had now moved to the Land of Israel. In light of all this, it seems like John is telling this story in such a way as to evoke a betrothal scene in the style of the Old Testament.

Jesus' request of the woman, "Give me a drink," (4:7) recalls the request of Eliezer (Abraham's steward) to Rebecca when he was seeking to determine if she was the Lord's intended bride for Isaac. This serves to heighten the nuptial atmosphere of the whole passage.

Jesus and the woman begin to discuss water, living water in particular. At one point, Jesus implies that anyone who drinks of the water he provides will him- or herself become a well of living water (John 4:14), which calls to mind one of the images that the Bridegroom uses to describe the Bride in the Song of Songs (Song 4:15).

Finally, the conversation turns explicitly to marriage (4:16): "Go, call your husband, and come here." We discover that the woman has had five husbands, and the man she is living with now is not properly her husband.

It is probably not coincidental that the Samaritans were the ethnically-mixed descendants of poor Israelites left behind by the conquering Assyrians (8th cent. BC), and FIVE other ethnic groups (each with their own male patron deity) brought in by the Assyrian to repopulate northern Israel (2 Kings 17:24). Apparently, the Israelites left behind intermarried with the five immigrant peoples and worshipped their gods, until some point in history, perhaps after the return of the Judeans from Babylon, when they quit the paganism and returned to the worship of the God of Israel--but not in the authorized way or place! Instead of going down to the legitimate temple in Jerusalem, they built their own sanctuary on Mt. Gerizim and altered the text of Deuteronomy to make it appear that Gerizim was the LORD's intended site for a central sanctuary. So the Samaritan people, after having participated in five different foreign cults, were now back "living with" the LORD, but not in a proper covenant relationship. The experience of this woman of Samaria mirrors the spiritual history of her people.

Trying to change the subject of conversation to something else besides her personal life, the woman tries to distract Jesus with a theological question (v. 19). Jesus responds, speaking about the true manner of worship, but his answer goes over the woman's head. All she can say in response is to make a profession of faith in the coming Messiah, whom she hopes will be able to explain everything. Jesus answers: "He who speaks to you, I AM!"

At this point the woman drops her water jar in amazement and wanders dazed back into town, telling everyone to come out and see this man who has told her everything she did. Can this really be the Messiah? Jesus stays with the villagers two days and many come to place their faith in him.

So what has happened in this story? Jesus, who is the LORD, the God of Israel, has come to woo these descendants of northern Israel (the Samaritans) back to himself, as he promised to do in many prophecies, notably those of Hosea:

Hos. 2:14 “Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. 15 ... And ... she shall answer as in the days of her youth, as at the time when she came out of the land of Egypt. 16 “And in that day, says the LORD, you will call me, ‘My husband,’ and no longer will you call me, ‘My Baal.’ 17 For I will remove the names of the Baals from her mouth, and they shall be mentioned by name no more. 18 And I will make for you a covenant on that day ... 19 And I will betroth you to me for ever; I will betroth you to me in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love, and in mercy. 20 I will betroth you to me in faithfulness; and you shall know the LORD."

The woman is a type and image of her people, the people of Samaria, whom the LORD did not forget, but return to woo them to himself.

Christ the LORD, the Bridegroom Messiah, comes to woo each one of us at the Eucharistic Liturgy (Mass). Despite our sins, shames, and checkered histories, he comes suddenly under the images of bread and wine, offering himself to us, calling himself to us, to be his spotless bride (Eph 5:25-27; Rev 21:9-11).

Defintive Biblical Evidence AGAINST Dogs Going to Heaven

Anyone who's ever taught a High School Religion course knows that at some point, that perennial question that has troubled theologians for centuries and continues to plague modern and post-modern young people will arise: "Do Dogs go to heaven when they die?" To answer this question positively is to give comfort and consolation to the fearful souls of students.

But God forbid you answer this question negatively. As one of my former students learned in his first year of teaching, to even suggest the possibility that dogs might not go to heaven (e.g., because they do not have immortal souls, or that they are not persons, or for some other reason)--much less to unequivocally declare that they do not--will arouse the wrath of students and the ire of their pet-loving parents (not to mention a potential trip to your supervisor's office for teaching such 'rigid' and 'disturbing' doctrines).

Up until now, when asked how to deal with this situation by students, I've simply suggested that they use reason (Hah!) and philosophy (double Hah!) to attempt to persuade the students that the longing to be with 'Fluffy' forever in the heavenly Jerusalem may in fact go unfulfilled.

However, I recently discovered that there is actual biblical evidence against dogs going to heaven. Well, this is entirely different. It's one thing to make a philosophical argument, but quite another to have Sacred Scripture on your side. So here it is. In the final chapter of the Bible, the Book of Revelation is describing the heavenly Jerusalem come down to earth, and in this context explicitly states:

Then he showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city [the new Jerusalem]; also, on either side of the river, the Tree of Life... Blessed are those who wash their robes, that they may have the right to the Tree of Life and that they may enter the city by the gates. Outside are the dogs and sorcerers and fornicators and murderers and idolaters, and every one who loves and practices falsehood (Revelation 22:1-2, 14-15)

There you have it, in black and white! Even the Greek is clear: Outside are "the dogs" (kunes). The Heavenly Jerusalem has a sign, and it reads: "No Dogs allowed." So, for all you dog-lovers, sorry. Dog's don't go to heaven; the Bible says so; that settles it. Whatever you may hope for, you won't be seeing Rover in the New Jerusalem.

P.S. I might note in closing that this brings me no particular grief. I'm a cat person, and of cats being excluded from heaven the Bible says nothing.

P.P.S. It might have helped the now-famous church sign debate over the issue for somebody to actually proof-text Scripture. That is, after all, the usual exegetical method of such signs.

The Temptation, Kings, Nuns and Priests

The Gospel reading for the first Sunday of Lent is the temptation of Christ in the desert according to Luke.

Christ is tempted in three ways: through his physical desires (hunger for food), through his eyes (being shown all the glory of the kingdoms of the world), and through the temptation to pride (to stage a magnificent stunt that would win him fame throughout the nation).

This threefold temptation of Christ corresponds to St. John’s warning about the “lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, and the pride of life” in 1 John 2:15. This threefold categorization has been known in the Church as the “threefold concupiscence,” the unholy Trinity of temptation.

Eve was tempted in the same way. She saw that the fruit was “good for food, pleasing to the eye, and to be desired to make one wise.” “Good for food” is lust of the flesh. “Pleasing to the eye” is lust of the eye. “Desired to make one wise” is a temptation to pride—Eve wants to be wise like God.

Thousands of years later, the king of Israel was commanded by Moses to restrain himself from the temptations of the threefold concupiscence. Deut 17:16-17 forbids the Israelite king from multiplying horses (military might), women (sensual pleasure), and gold/silver (greed/avarice) for himself. These three items correspond to lust of the flesh (women), lust of the eyes (gold), and pride (self-aggrandizing military build-up).

First Kings 10–11 describe how, in his latter years, Solomon, the first Son of David to sit on his father’s throne and a kind of “New Adam” figure in the biblical story line, egregiously fell prey to the threefold concupiscence by multiplying for himself everything Deuteronomy 17 forbids.

In today’s Gospel, we see Jesus, the New Adam, overcoming the threefold concupiscence, and so undoing the sin of Eve, and overcoming the failings of the first Son of David, Solomon. “One greater than Solomon is here” (Luke 11:31).

All Christians share in Christ’s royal anointing and therefore must take steps to overcome lust, avarice, and pride. In particular, in the Catholic tradition, those who enter the religious life take vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. These vows are radicalized ways to mortify the threefold concupiscence: lust of the flesh (chastity), lust of the eyes (poverty), and pride (obedience). We should view these “evangelical counsels” as means toward a profound conformity to Christ and his power to overcome temptation. Even Catholic diocesan clergy, who do not take formal vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, nonetheless de facto commit themselves to this lifestyle. It seems fitting that they should, since they are in a sense the viceroys of the New Israel (Gal 6:16), and therefore should commit themselves more radically to the self-denials required of anyone who would rule over the people of God (Deut 17:16-17).

Back from St. Michael's Parish Houston

While Brant, Michael, and Dr. Hahn are partying in Lubbock, I've been down to Houston to a wonderful parish there, St. Michaels. I gave my conversion story on Thursday night, and spoke to a women's retreat on Friday morning about the Cross as both a priestly and nuptial act on the part of Jesus the Christ. I can't say enough good things about the people and hospitality at St. Michael's parish. I think we all had a great time.

The talks I gave, although in different versions, are available on CD at www.catholic-productions.com.

Does Hebrews Envision a New Ministerial Priesthood?

Since Pope Benedict has declared this the "Year for Priests," and since I am now teaching at a Catholic seminary, I've been doing some thinking and writing about the origins of the ministerial priesthood. 

In the course of this research, I went back to the council of Trent's decree on the ministerial priesthood, and found that in key text, the Council rooted its teaching on the institution of the ministerial priesthood in a text from the epistle to the Hebrews:

"Sacrifice and priesthood are so united by the ordinance of God that both have existed in every law. Since, therefore, in the New Testament the Catholic Church has received from the institution of the Lord the holy, visible sacrifice of the Eucharist, it must also be confessed that there is in the Church a new visible and external priesthood (canon 1), into which the old has been translated (Heb 7:12). Moreover, that this was instituted by that same Lord and Savior (canon 3), and that to the apostles and their successors in the priesthood was handed down the power of consecrating, of offering and administering His body and blood, and also of forgiving and retaining sins, the Sacred Scriptures sho and the Church has always taught. 
(canon 1)." (Council of Trent, Session XXIII)

Several things are interesting about this text, not least of which is the language used to describe what is now commonly called the 'ministerial' priesthood. For one thing, Trent refers to this as the "visible and external priesthood," which presents a contrast to the priesthood of all the baptized, which I presume would be an "invisible and interior" priesthood. Moreover, Trent also speaks of the "translation" of the old priesthood into the new. This is intriguing language, perhaps not one would expect when thinking of the establishment of a new priesthood. 

Finally, it is interesting that Trent focus on Hebrews 7:12, since the context of that seems to me to suggest both (1) that Jesus is a priest after the order of Melchizedek, and (2) that there has been "a change in the priesthood," not a dissolution of the priesthood:

11 Now if perfection had been attainable through the Levit'ical priesthood (for under it the people received the law), what further need would there have been for another priest to arise after the order of Melchiz'edek, rather than one named after the order of Aaron? 12 For when there is a change in the priesthood, there is 
necessarily a change in the law as well. 13 For the one of whom these things are spoken belonged to another tribe, from which no one has ever served at the altar. 14 For it is evident that our Lord was descended from Judah, and in connection with that tribe Moses said nothing about priests. (Heb 7:11-14)

Notice also that the context is specifically priestly ministers--i.e., those who "serve at the altar" (Heb 7:13), which was something that was never done by all Israelites, even though they were all "a kingdom of priests" (cf. Exod 19:5-6). What is fascinating about this emphasis on service "at the altar" in combination with a "change in the priesthood," is that Heb 7:13 is not the last reference to an altar. Rather, in Hebrews 13 we find the following:

"We have an altar from which those who serve in the tent have no right to eat." (Heb 13: 10)

What "altar" is the author referring to? It seems clear to me that  is a reference to the eucharistic sacrifice, from which Christians may eat, but not the levitical priests in the Jerusalem Temple. If right, this is highly significant: if Hebrews sees the Eucharistic table as an "altar" of sacrifice, one would be hard pressed to deny (especially in a first-century context) that the author also saw the Christian ministers of the altar as priestly figures. This becomes suggestive when we recall that the context of this statement is surrounded by an inclusio focused on obeying the Christian "leaders," who are distinct from the lay faithful (Heb 13:7, 17, inclusio). 

In sum, at first glance, it seems to me that it is precisely in Hebrews that we find some of the most intriguing references to a new priesthood, centered on the new altar of the eucharistic sacrifice. Of course, unlike the Levitical sacrifice, the eucharistic banquet would be an unbloody sacrifice of bread and wine, but  that is precisely what Melchizedek offers in Gen 14:18, and why he is appropriate type for Jesus' own priesthood and the priestly leaders of the new covenant.

Year of the Priest: Priesthood in the OT (audio)

OK, we're going to try this again.

A couple of days ago I posted a link to some talks on the priesthood in the OT from a Catholic perspective, but the link didn't work.

The final link is now (theoretically) up and running, so click on the title of this post if you want to listen.

These talks were part of Adult Faith Formation for the City of Steubenville, an effort of all the city's parishes.

On the Essential Unity of the Old and New Testaments

Merry Christmas to everyone out there.

Over the Christmas break, I've been reading a biography of the twentieth-century theologian, Henri de Lubac (1896-1991), by Rudolf Voderholzer, entitled, Meet Heri de Lubac: His Life and Work (Ignatius Press, 2008). 

One of the most interesting parts of the book is when it recounts de Lubac's composition of his multi-volume masterpiece, Medieval Exegesis (3 vols. Eerdmans, 1998, 2000, 2008). In preparation for this work, de Lubac worked through all 217 volumes of Migne's Latin Church Fathers and all 162 volumes of the Greek Fathers, copying down all of the relevant passages on the doctrine of Scripture on slips of paper! What I found fascinating about this recollection was not just the thoroughness of his research (who does this anymore besides Dale Allison?), but, in the course of such reading, his overarching discovery:

"Along the way I became more and more strongly aware of the essential nature of the extraordinary connection, always threatened but always maintained or reestablished within the Church, between the two Testaments; I saw it more and more clearly dominating the whole history and the whole doctrine of the Church, from the first century to our own time... I was happy working to do justice in that way to one of the central elements of the Catholic tradition, so grossly unappreciated in modern times and nevertheless still the bearer of promises for renewal." (Henri de Lubac, At the Service of the Church, 83-84, cited in Meet Henri de Lubac, 79)

This is a remarkable claim. After reading through the vast majority of the Fathers, both Greek and Latin, de Lubac found that the issue of "the essential unity" of the Old and New Testaments "dominates" both the "history" and "doctrine" of the Church, from the beginning down to our times. Think about it, and it rings true: 

What was the first council of Jerusalem about? The unity of the Old and New testaments, and whether not requiring circumcision for salvation was an abandonment of the old covenant. How about Irenaeus' clash with Gnosticism? The unity of the Old and New Testaments, and whether the Creator God of the old was the same as the Redeemer of the New.

Indeed, even today, what about the quest for the historical Jesus, especially in its most recent form, which is so focused on Jesus the Jew? At the heart of it, isn't this really about answering the question of continuity between Jesus (who lived according to the Old Testament) and the Church (representing the New)? 

For what it's worth, for years I have suggested to my students (with no actual research or evidence to back it up) that most of the heresies that have plagued the Church over the centuries often seem in some way be tied to a failure to pay adequate attention to the Old Testament. It's vindicating to find someone of de Lubac's erudition (personally, I've only had the time to read 161 volumes of Migne's Greek fathers;) confirming the basic idea that the unity of the Old and New Testaments is "always being threatened" by various voices but "always being maintained or reestablished within the Church." In our century, such an affirmation was given an unprecedented visibility at the Second Vatican Council in Dei Verbum 14-15 and even moreso in the 1992 Catechism of the Catholic Church, which devotes three long paragraphs to "the unity of the Old and New Testaments" (CCC 128-130). 

In closing, I also think, but cannot prove, that one of the reason's N. T. Wright's Jesus and the Victory of God (Fortress 1996) was such a popular book was that he integrated the Old Testament prophets into his reconstruction of Jesus' life and aims more thoroughly than any other scholar writing at the time. I can honestly say that for my own part, while writing my dissertation, it was Wright above all who pushed me to actually go back and not just read Second Temple sources, but the Old Testament itself, especially the prophets, in my own attempt to understand the first-century prophet from Nazareth. 

A Major New Book on Jesus: Craig Keener's The Historical Jesus of the Gospels

Well, another SBL is come and gone, and I've spent the last week doing what I do every year the week after SBL: being torn apart between reading all the new books I bought and finishing up my semester of teaching work and finals grading.
This year, I have given in to temptation and can't stop reading Craig Keener's new book, The Historical Jesus of the Gospels (Eerdmands, 2009). I am currently about halfway through it, and, if all goes well, plan on doing a series of short posts on certain aspects of this very important new contribution to the historical study of Jesus.
Keener is one of the most learned New Testament scholars writing today, and one of the few historical Jesus scholars who has also penned full length commentaries on The Gospel of Matthew (Eerdmans, 1999) and The Gospel of John (Hendrickson, 2003), of which the latter is arguably the most exhaustive commentary on John penned in the last century or so. For the last few years I've recommended Keener's commentary on John to colleagues not least because the opening chapter on the introduction to John--a chapter which is 330 single spaced pages!--is simply the best introduction to the Gospel I've ever read. (It almost should have been a separate monograph). Anyway, Keener's familiarity with the exegetical issues surrounding the Synoptic and Johannine tradition gives him a special edge and makes his work a unique contribution to the field of historical Jesus research.

With that being said, there are three introductory points that you should know about this new book, The Historical Jesus of the Gospels:

1. Although the book looks formidably long, it is actually extremely concisely written. While it totals out at 831 pages, only 350 of those are actually main text. The rest are endnotes (Why?Why? Why?!!!) appendices, indexes, and an over 100 page bibliography. This makes the book much more accessible for a wide audience than it might appear at first glance.

2. The book is divided into two main parts:

a. Methodology of Jesus Research

b. A 'Reconstruction' of the Life and Aims of Jesus

I'm currently finishing up the methodology section, so I can't say much about Keener's analysis of Jesus' aims, except to say that Keener himself points out that the main contribution of the book is in the method section, where he draws on his unbelievably vast knowledge of ancient Jewish and Greco-Roman literature in order to situate the genre and writing of the Gospels in their historical context.

So far, this methodology section is simple stunning: the chapters on "The Gospels as Biographies," "Luke-Acts as History," "The Gospels' Written Sources," and "the Gospels Oral Sources" are worth the price of the whole book. I have never read in one place such a concise and earth-shattering reevaluation of the assumptions, methods, and sources of Gospel study that is so thoroughly researched and entirely rooted in ancient primary sources, both Greco-Roman and Jewish. Keener strides across the threshold to the door that Richard Bauckham opened in his Jesus and the Eyewitnesses (Eerdmans, 2003), and does so in a way that is clear, concise, unbelievably erudite, and quite convincing, and which does not suffer from some of the weaknesses of Bauckham's case (e.g., the question of inclusio indicators of eyewitness sources.)

I cannot stress the point enough: any scholar or student who works in the historical study of Jesus needs to read carefully and reckon with Keener's arguments about the genre, historiographical characteristics, and oral and literary formation of the Gospels. If all I had were part 1 of this book, I would even go so far as to suggest that Keener's work represents something of a new stage in the historical study of Jesus, since it is the first major work to fully incorporate the advances that have been made into the literary genre of the Gospels as ancient biographies. Other works treat the Gospels like biographies, without fully discussing why (e.g., N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God), while other works note that the Gospels are biographies, but end up treating the Gospel material exactly like the form-critics who denied the biographical character of the Gospels (e.g., James Dunn, Jesus Remembered). Keener's work is different. However...

3. ...There's still one last observation, more critical than laudatory. There is a strange weakness in the book, which is frustratingly mis-titled. The title, The Historical Jesus of the Gospels, gives the impression that Keener is going to build his reconstruction of Jesus' words and deeds from all four Gospels, not just the Synoptics. However, this book should have been called The Historical Jesus of the SYNOPTIC Gospels, for the Fourth Gospel is (virtually) nowhere to be found. Indeed, before we even get to page 1, Keener declares that he will abstain from drawing on the Gospel of John, for reasons of (1) length (the book is already too long); (2) previous publication (readers can find his thoughts on John in his commentary); and (3) avoiding controversy ("there are enough issues of controversy involved in the present discussion that it seemed superfluous to add another one" Keener, "Introduction," p. xxiv).

Although I can sympathize with these points, in the final analysis, they disappoint, for several reasons.First, the issue of length could have easily been solved by eliminating the 100 page bibliography. I'd have preferred 100 pages on Jesus and the Gospel of John from one of the foremost commentators on the Fourth Gospel rather than yet another bibliography. (For that matter, is there any real difference between an 800 page book and a 900 pager?)

Second, Keener himself states that the whole reason he wrote this book is because he overheard someone comment at a conference that "If you want those in the historical Jesus field to read your work, you don't stick it in the commentaries." Keener, p. xxix). In other words, the point of the book is to bring the results of his commentary work into the discussion of the historical Jesus. Why should this goal apply to the Synoptics and not to John? In my opinion, this was a real missed opportunity to have an expert in John allow his expertise to have a potential impact on the field of Jesus research.

Third and finally, while I can sympathize with the desire to avoid controversy and to pick battles that you can actually win, there is a serious methodological problem with using all of the first-century biographies written within the living memory of Jesus' disciples except John. At the end of the day, it is arbitrary, and by definition skews the overall reconstruction. What historical or methodological justification is there for eliminating an entire Gospel from your reconstruction, one which Keener himself regards as a first-century historical biography, written by an eyewitness? Why do this at a time when so many scholars (Keener among them) have recognized the historical value of John's Gospel on a number of points? (e.g., The SBL John, Jesus, and History Group) Again, it would have been very interesting to see how someone who knows John as well as Keener would have actually made use of his Gospel in a historical Jesus book.

Anyway, these criticisms aside, in my opinion, Keener's work, The Historical Jesus of the Gospels, looks like it could be one of the most consequential books published on the historical Jesus in over a decade. He is to be commended for stepping out of the field of Gospel commentary writing and making such a momentous contribution to Jesus research.

Reflections on SBL: Otto gives a stimulating talk on the Pentateuch

Much of the significance of SBL comes in private interaction between scholars outside of the official sessions. In fact, between the meetings we had with colleagues, it was especially hard this year to take in many of the sessions. One I did get to attend featured Eckart Otto, a very famous "elder statesmen" of Pentateuchal studies. Otto gave an impassioned appeal for greater attention to the Pentateuchal narrative when interpreting Pentateuchal law. He argued that the narrative has an intentional "hermeneutical function" that guides the reader into understanding the relative significance of the various codes of law present in the Pentateuch.

I resonated with Otto's basic message. After all, when Paul says that the "law was added because of transgression" (Galatians 3:19) or Jesus says that "Moses permitted ... for the hardness of your hearts," I think both are examples of allowing the Pentateuchal narrative to supply a hermeneutical (interpretive) function. To wit, both Jesus and Paul observe that some of the law of the Pentateuch was given in response to, or in consideration of, the failures of the people of Israel to live up to God's highest ideals for them. Therefore, not all of these laws are universally binding moral norms.

In any event, I believe it will be a good thing for Pentateuchal studies if more scholars heed Otto's call for greater attention to the narrative context of law.

Back in Steubenville

SBL is over, Brant is back on the other side of Lake Pontchartrain, and I'm back in Steubenville (see pic at left--Steubenville in its glory days). I imagine we'll have a little material to post about the conference in the next few days. However, today is still a class day. Thanksgiving Break doesn't start until tomorrow.

Sorry, no pics of famous bible scholars from the actual conference. Neither Brant nor I brought a camera.

Having Fun in New Orleans

Well, Brant and I are here in New Orleans enjoying the Society of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting. This morning we went to mass with a bunch of colleagues at St. Louis Cathedral (picture at right), on the Feast of Christ the King. The church and the liturgy were beautiful, and the homily was solid. What a blessing. Afterwards we tried to get breakfast at the famous Cafe du Monde, but the line was half a block long. We settled for beignets and coffee in a lesser-known but lovely eatery, while a street musician serenaded us with hymns, spirituals, and excerpts of classical pieces on a soprano recorder. Heavenly!

The collegiality has been great. We've caught up with old friends from our Notre Dame days, and colleagues who work in our respective areas of specialization. On the Old Testament side of things, I've been privileged to have great conversations with Michael Lyons, Mark Leuchter, Jefferey Stackert, Matthias Henze, and Richard Averbeck, all top-notch scholars and each a real "Mensch."

Off to New Orleans: SBL 2009

I'm leaving tomorrow for the Society of Biblical Literature 2009 Congress in New Orleans. The SBL is the guild organization for North American bible scholars. As I mentioned before, I'll be presenting a paper on the relationship of the manumission laws of "H" (Leviticus) and "D" (Deuteronomy) at the Biblical Law session on Monday afternoon (1pm). Brant's already down there since he lives there, obviously. I'm looking forward to some good Cajun food, a chance to catch up with colleagues, and the opportunity to talk over some ideas with top scholars from around the country. Brant and I will probably both be blogging about the experience, although maybe not till next Wednesday.

Atheists Heap Abuse on Mother Theresa: Scriptural and Theological Reflections

Altruism is difficult for atheists to explain within their worldview. This can be seen in their reaction to the modern icon of altruism, Blessed Teresa of Calcutta.
The famous sociobiologist E. O. Wilson argued that goodness was the result of “lying, pretense, and deceit, including self-deceit, because the actor is most convincing who believes that his performance is real.” He attributed Blessed Teresa’s altruism to self-interest. She was just “in it” just to get to heaven: “Mother Teresa is an extraordinary person but it should not be forgotten that she is secure in the service of Christ and the knowledge of her Church’s immortality.”

Wilson’s comments are mild compared to Christopher Hitchens recent comment during an interview with Dennis Miller (here). I have edited some of Hitchen’s crudity:

"Mother Theresa spent her whole life saying (that what Calcutta needs) is a huge campaign against family planning. I mean, who comes to that conclusion who isn’t a complete fanatic? She took – and I would directly say stole…millions and millions of dollars and spent all the money not on the poor, but on the building of nearly 200 convents in her own name around the world to glorify herself and to continue to spread the doctrine that, as she put it — when she got her absurd Nobel Peace Prize — that the main threat to world peace is abortion and contraception. The woman was a fanatic and a fundamentalist and a fraud, and millions of people are much worse off because of her life, and it’s a shame there is no hell for your b**** to go to."

As offensive and erroneous as Wilson’s and Hitchen’s remarks are, I think there is some benefit to reflecting on them, especially in this month of November as we contemplate the saints, the faithful departed, the final judgment, and the Last Things generally.

First, the venom of Hitchen’s remarks reminds me of the response Jesus received from the Pharisees with regard to his healing ministry. In the face of direct evidence of divine power and obvious goodness (miracles of healing), the Pharisees attribute Jesus’ powers to Satan. Likewise, Hitchens thinks Blessed Teresa is worthy of hell, if there was such a place. Sometimes the Gospels seem distant from us because we cannot relate to the social dynamic in some of the stories. Hitchens helps us close the gap between reader and text by showing us up close the twisted logic that can lead people to consider some of the clearest examples of goodness as evil.

Both Hitchens and the Pharisees are confronted with people who challenge their worldview, people who—according to their Weltanschauung—ought not to exist and do what they do. The reaction is violent revulsion, because nothing is more threatening to a person than to have their entire worldview threatened.

Secondly, Wilson’s attribution of Blessed Teresa’s goodness to self-interest based on her hope in heaven actually sheds light on a fact that has somewhat distressed me. Many of you know that after Bl. Teresa’s death her memoirs revealed that, in fact, she frequently did not have spiritual consolations nor a sense of the assurance of her salvation. She worked for long periods in spiritual dryness. When this information came to light, I was troubled personally, because I could not understand why God would not have granted such a selfless person the spiritual consolations that I felt she deserved.

The story of Job comes to mind. Like Wilson, Satan in the beginning of the Book of Job attributes Job’s goodness to self-interest. “Does Job fear God for nothing?” (Job 1:9). This is the “hermeneutic of suspicion,” the same hermeneutic Wilson and Hitchens employ. No one does good for goodness sake; everyone is “in it” because of something “for them.” Does any one do good only for the sake of good? Which is the same as asking, does anyone serve God for the sake of God alone?

Perhaps this is why God permitted Blessed Teresa to serve without spiritual consolations: to silence the Adversary. Her diaries showed E.O. Wilson to be wrong. Blessed Teresa was not some sanguine simpleton serving God for “pie in the sky by and by.” She was not continually consoled with assurance of heaven. Yet she continued to love both God and neighbor without guarantee of any return for herself. Thus her love was perfected and purified, because it was enabled to be without any self-interest. Her spiritual dryness enabled Blessed Teresa to make a perfect self-offering. God gave Bl. Theresa the opportunity to make a pure self-gift. We ought not to be surprised if at some point in our walk with God, we are given a similar opportunity.

(I originally wrote this post on All Saints Day, but it has taken a while to get it proofread and online.)

Who Are the 144,000 in Revelation 14?

Well, I'm off to the 5th annual Letter & Spirit conference at St. John's Seminary. This year's theme is "Priesthood and Blessing," and I'll be doing a presentation on "The Priestly Identity of the 144,000 in Revelation 14." The conference is a response to Pope Benedict's designation of this year as the "Year for Priests." It's also a lead up for Volume 5 of the Journal Letter & Spirit, which is coming out this week!

If you want the full paper, you'll have to come to the conference. But if you want a taste, I'll be looking at the Old Testament and ancient Jewish background of each the images used to describe the 144,00 in Revelation 14:

Then I looked, and behold, on Mount Zion stood the Lamb, and with him a hundred and forty-four thousand who had his name and his Father’s name written on their foreheads. And I heard a voice from heaven like the sound of loud thunder; the voice I heard was like the sound of kitharists playing on their kitharas, and they sing a new song before the throne and before the four living creatures and before the elders. No one could learn that song except the one-hundred and forty-four thousand who had been ransomed from the earth. It is these who have not defiled themselves with women, for they are virgins; it is these who follow the Lamb wherever he goes; these have been redeemed from mankind as first fruits for God and the Lamb, and in their mouth no lie was found, for they are blameless. (Revelation 14:1-4)

In the paper, I argue that each of the key images used to describe the 144,000 are priestly images:

1. They wear the "name" of God on their foreheads (cf. Exodus 28; Sirach 45);

2. They have the exclusive right to sing the "new song" of the heavenly liturgy with "kitharas" (2 Chronicles 9; 1 Maccabees 4; Antiquities 20)

3. They abstain from sexual relations with women (Exodus 19; Leviticus 15; 1 Samuel 21);

4. They are sacrificial "first-fruits" who have been "ransomed" (Numbers 3)

5. No lie was found in their mouths (Malachi 2, the ideal priest).

It should go without saying that such a paper raises all kinds of questions about the biblical origins of priestly celibacy. But more on that anon; I've got to go catch a plane.

Pondering Psalm 1 on an Ordinary Day

The Psalm for today, Thursday of the Twenty-Ninth Week of Ordinary Time, is the short and beautiful Psalm 1.

Psalm 1 serves as an introduction to the entire psalter. It is a Psalm of the "wisdom" genre--that means, it has literary ties to the wisdom literature. By introducing the psalter with a wisdom psalm, the sacred author means to suggest that the psalter is, among other things, a book of wisdom. Wisdom was a practical rather than theoretical enterprise for the ancient Israelites. Wisdom was knowing how to live rather than knowing various abstractions. However, the psalter is by and large not didactic--it's not full of instructions, like most wisdom literature. Instead it consists of prayers and songs of praise. How do these compositions teach "wisdom"?

Psalm 1 compares the righteous man to a tree planted by streams of water, which stays green and regularly yields its fruit. In the Near East, water is scarce. Many locations cannot count on rain for moisture. I tree with deep roots to a source of water, that could be counted on to produce fruit, was and is a precious thing.

The point of the analogy is fidelity. The wise, righteous man, in the view of the psalmist, is one who is consistent and faithful, one who can be counted on. It is not necessarily the person with a "flashy" spirituality, who has dramatic spiritual experiences and draws the attention of others. These things are good in themselves, but they can be counterfeit and do not necessarily indicate maturity.

On a rather dull day in the liturgical calendar, during the doldrums of the academic semester, it is good to be reminded that the man blessed in God's eyes is the faithful one, who consistently bears fruit no matter what the "weather" is.

O Happy Day: SBL Paper on "H" and "D" Finished

And there is much rejoicing at the Bergsma household because Daddy has finished his "big paper" for the November SBL Conference, entitled "The Manumission Laws: Has the Dependence of H on D been Demonstrated?" Sounds fun, huh? I knew you'd think so. Anyway, now Daddy can play--well, at least after he finishes grading seventy more midterms.

Do Atheists Really Want a Fair Debate?

I while ago I posted about the aftermath of the New Orleans Word of God conference, and various actions by the New Orleans Secular Humanist Association that could be interpreted as indications that they are not serious about a debate with a well-prepared proponent of a different perspective.

Apparently this is not a unique phenomena within the neo-atheist movement. It now comes to light that Richard Dawkins, über-atheist across the pond, is refusing to debate Stephen Meyer, a philosopher of science who has recently published a major contribution to origins research called Signature in the Cell. This is not the first time Dawkins has refused to debate. Christian apologist D'nesh D'Souza long ago issued a standing invitation to debate with him, but was refused. Eventually Dawkins accepted--but just once, and it was only covered by Al-Jazeera, ensuring that no one in the Western world would see it.

Why won't Dawkins debate Stephen Meyer. He says he won't debate "creationists" because it gives them "respectability" they don't deserve.

Stephen Meyer is not a "creationist," a term commonly reserved for those who believe in a young earth and a literal six-day creation. Dawkins knows this, but is engaging in name-calling.

Secondly, when you trounce someone in a debate, it humiliates them, not lends them respectability. Folks only gain respectability in a debate when they win or at least hold their own.

Therefore, what Dawkins means is, he won't debate Meyer because he thinks Meyer will win the debate or at least do well.

An Atheist at the Cajun Catholic Bible Conference: The Epilogue

As I posted here before, back in August we had a visit from an officer of the New Orleans Secular Humanist Association to our Word of God conference in Cajun country, who was evidently confused by our advertising campaign. Although we billed the conference as an educational event for Catholics concerning the sacraments of marriage and priesthood, some evidently received the impression that it was going to be a value-neutral free exchange of alternative worldviews. Our friend from NOSHA was disappointed when Michael, Brant, and I began to consistently argue for a Catholic and biblical approach to various human realities. In particular he challenged me to a debate in a NOSHA-sponsored venue on the topic of marriage. I declined, as I am primarily a (unfrozen caveman) bible scholar, not a marriage-and-public-policy guy, but I offered to get him in contact with Brian Brown, one of the leaders of the National Organization for Marriage. Brian immediately jumped on the offer to debate and contacted NOSHA. Unfortunately, NOSHA wanted him to come and debate, but would not pay for any of his expenses, neither travel nor lodging.

For those who don't do public speaking professionally, let me make clear that no one pays their own way to come and speak. If you're serious about having a speaker--especially a nationally-recognized one--you pay expenses plus stipend. Would Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Christopher Hitchens, or Daniel Dennett pay their own way to come to Franciscan University to debate with us? That's an easy question to answer.

Everyone can draw their own conclusions about how serious the interest in debate really was.

(For those who don't recognize him, the headshot is everyone's favorite British atheist, Richard Dawkins)

Should Christians Abandon B.C./A.D.?

I'd like to add my two cents to the interesting discussion by Bob Cargill and Daniel McClellan about whether Christians should abandon the customary "B.C." (Before Christ) and "A.D." (Anno Domini) dating system and adopt the "B.C.E." (Before the Common Era) and "C.E." (Common Era) in widespread use now in the academy.

Anyone who's ever taught or taken a class in biblical studies, much less published a book or article in the field, will have run into this question: Which dating system to use? And why?

With all due respect to Bob and Daniel, I wholeheartedly disagree with the specific proposal that Christians should abandon the B.C./A.D. system for the sake of following "the scientific community." 

The primary reason is that "B.C.E." and "C.E." are vacuous: they don't mean anything. What actually is the "common era"? Can anyone actually tell me what is "common" about the years 1-the present? And what was it that happened "before the common era" so as to make it, well, 'un-common'? 

It seems to mean the terminological shift is nothing but a rather facile attempt to take a dating system which clearly places the Incarnation at the center of human history and secularize it. But the attempt ultimately fails, since whether you use B.C.E/C.E. or B.C./A.D., the Incarnation is still at the center of the system. There's no other identifiable historical event that marks the transition from one age to the other, whatever one concludes about the chronological controversy regarding exact calendar date of Jesus' birth.  

Second, as a Catholic, I actually believe that all human history does revolve around the Incarnation of Christ. While Bob Cargill may be right that the "use of B.C. and A.D." is not "the central identifier of a person as a christian," historically, the confession of faith in the Incarnation stands at the very heart of the Gospel. As 1 Timothy states: "the mystery of our religion" is that "He was manifested in the flesh" (1 Tim 3:16).   If others find this confession of faith in the Incarnation offensive, then it seems to me that the consistent thing to do would be to create entirely different system, a secular system of dating that is based on some other event--rather than cloaking a Christocentric calendar in secular clothes. 

So, until such a system is created and forced upon me, I will happily continue to use B.C. and A.D., as well as other such unfashionable terms like "Old Testament" and "New Testament," and hope that my respect towards people of different faiths will be judged on other grounds. 

P.S. This is, of course, exactly what Bob said members of the Catholic Church would do ;).

P.P.S.

As a sidenote, it's also worth pointing out the origin of the linguistic inconsistency in the B.C./A.D. dating system: Have you ever wondered why "B.C." derives from English ("Before Christ") and "A.D." from Latin (Anno Domini)? Pick up an old Catholic Bible, and you'll find no such inconsistency: in bygone days, the designation for the age before Christ was abbreviated "A.M." (Anno Mundi)--that is, "In the Year of the World." In this system, the dating was counted from creation to the Incarnation, following the biblical timeline, in a way similar to orthodox Jewish calendars.

So Ancient Jerusalem Really Was Important!?

In case you missed it, a massive fortification wall from the early/mid-second millennium B.C. was recently discovered in the City of David, the heart of ancient Jerusalem.

Why is this significant?

Recent decades have seen the rise of the "minimalist" school of ancient Israelite history. Several important scholars have argued that, although the Bible portrays Jerusalem as an important fortress city already from the time of Joshua, in fact it was a relatively small and unimportant site until, say, the reign of Hezekiah.

The full implications of the discovery of this wall will take a while to digest, but this much is clear--it doesn't help the minimalists' case.

The Papal Encyclicals on the Bible: Does Anybody Ever Read Them?

Sorry I've been quiet for a while; I'm in the midst of adjusting to my new job at Notre Dame Seminary in New Orleans. A new job means new classes, which means new preps, and new work!

Right now, I'm working up a new course on Biblical Methodology, which has been a ton of fun so far. In it, we are currently doing a close reading of the three papal encyclicals on the Bible.

These are:

1. Pope Leo XIII, 

Encyclical Letter On the Study of Sacred Scripture,

Providentissimus Deus, 1893

2. Pope Benedict XV, 

Encyclical Letter Commemorating the Fifteenth Centenary of the Death of St. Jerome,

Spiritus Paraclitus, 1920

3. Pope Pius XII,

Encyclical Letter Promoting Biblical Studies,

Divino Afflante Spiritu, 1943

As I'm reading through these encyclicals again, I'm struck by what a treasure trove of teaching they are on a whole host of issues: inspiration, inerrancy, interpretation, the literal and spiritual senses of Scripture, the role of the Scripture in the spiritual life and mission of the Church, and on and on. 

But I'm also struck as I look around in secondary literature, both Catholic and Protestant, that no one seems to be actually reading these encyclicals and engaging them. This is an odd situation, one that seems to be peculiar to biblical studies. At least in Catholic circles, no moral theologian worth his or her salt would ever presume to speak about, say, the Church's teaching on contraception without reference to Paul VI's Encyclical Letter Of Human Life, Humanae Vitae (1968). Likewise, Catholic philosophers regularly make their students study John Paul II's Encyclical Letter On the Relationship between Faith and Reason, Fides et Ratio (1998), in close detail. 

By contrast, when it comes to introductions to the Bible, including Catholic ones, authors often precede blissfully along as if no detailed papal teachings on Scripture have ever been penned--or at least they mention them only in passing without any detailed analysis. Why? 

So, here's my questions:

If you are a Catholic, have you read any of the papal encyclicals on the Bible? Why or why not?

And if you are not Catholic--in particular, if you are a Protestant biblical scholar--have you ever read the papal encyclicals on the Bible? If not, why not?

P.S.: If actually you want access to these encyclicals on the Bible, you can find them all online at the Vatican website, or, even more handy, in Dean P. Bechard's excellent book, The Scripture Documents: An Anthology of Official Catholic Teachings (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2002).

What do Bible scholars really do?

Some readers of this blog are bible scholars themselves, so they don't ponder the headline question of this post.

Others might. I mean, beside teaching and speaking at conferences, what do bible scholars do with all their time? What are the secret "scholarly" things they do that make them "scholars"?

Unfortunately, the answer is not always too exciting. The technical projects on which we often work, intended for other scholars, are frequently esoteric. It can take a while to explain why they are interesting at all.

Case in point: at the upcoming Society of Biblical Literature conference (the big professional meeting for North American bible scholars) in New Orleans, I'll be giving a paper discussing whether the ancient author of Leviticus 25 was copying from Deuteronomy 15 when he wrote.

Why is this interesting at all? It has to do with how the Pentateuch was written, and how the laws of the Bible developed.

I did my dissertation on Leviticus 25, and have spent a lot of time pouring over both that passage and also Deuteronomy 15, which has a different laws about some of the same topics.

I've never seen any close verbal parallels indicating that there was some copying going on, in one or the other direction, like what we see between the synoptic gospels. (Nonetheless, it seems to be a dominant opinion among those who work in Pentateuchal law that most of Leviticus is reworking Deuteronomy. I've never been able to see it myself, but then again, I've always been the odd man out.)

So I'm going to argue there is no "literary dependence" between these passages.

But I could be wrong. If any of our good readers can find a convincing example of copying between Lev 25 and Deut 15, let me know!

Marriage and the Old Testament Narrative

I've seen the following piece on more than one website run by observant Jews. Since I've seen it in several places without attribution, I assume it is anonymous and public domain, so I reproduce it here. It discusses whether any of the major biblical characters would be good potential husbands from the perspective of traditional, observant Judaism:

"Would we make a Shidduch (marriage match) with anyone from the Torah?"

There's Avrohom Avinu (Abraham):
He seems to be frum but really he's a BT and his father made idols, not our kind...next.

Yitzchak Avinu (Isaac):
Well his grandfather made idols, there was all that nastiness with Lot and his half brother is an Arab.

Yaakov Avinu (Jacob):
His great-grandfather made idols, his brother went off the derech, his mother comes from a very treyfe family and he wasn't shomer negiah with Rachel Imeinu before they were married and he spent a lot of time with his uncle, who's mammesh a rasha.

Yosef HaTzaddik (Josef):
His mother had an idol once and she died early, plus he's a slave and his brothers don't like him, must be something in that and with all the issues with Avraham Avinu and Yitzchak and Yaakov Avinu...better not to.

Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses):
Oy, what a maaseh!!!! His parents separated, then they got back together, his parents abandoned him, put him in a basket, he was raised by goyim...not our kind for sure. He may be close to HaShem but his background is so problematic we wouldn't want him in our family!

Dovid HaMelech (King David):
Descendants from a Geyoret, not our kind of people. Sure a few generations have gone by but all things being equal shouldn't we look for someone with more Jewish background?

Shlomo HaMelech (King Solomon):
See above, and his mother's marriage was very dubious, he is rich though but the Yichus and family background is very tricky.

Terms:
Shidduch = match (here, a marriage match)
frum = pious (like German “from”)
BT = Ba'al Teshuva; a “revert” to the faith
derech = lit. road; to "go off the derech" is to cease observing one’s faith
treyfe = not "kosher"
shomer negiah = the laws regulating touching between sexes, i.e. PDA
"mammesh a rasha" = bad dude
maaseh = story, tale
goyim = “nations” or “Gentiles; non-Jews
HaShem = the Name, i.e. pious reference to God
geyoret = female convert to Judaism
Yichus = family background, connections

The point is, from a contemporary observant Jewish perspective, many of the biblical characters themselves would be less than desirable marriage matches.

Compare what's going on in this piece with Matthew's genealogy of Christ in Matthew 1, where the apostle calls painful attention to some of the unusual marriages that formed the ancestry of Solomon, the greatest king and one of the most important Messianic types of the Old Testament.

It is worth noting that, contrary to the contention of some, the Old Testament writers tended not to revise the history of Israel in order to whitewash the deeds of the ancestors.

Marriage, Scripture, and the Word of God Conference

Some of the readers of this blog are aware that Brant, Michael, and I—along with Peter Kreeft—were all involved in a large Catholic Bible conference in New Orleans a few weekends ago, the Word of God conference sponsored by Catholic Productions.

The conference was focused on the sacraments of service—matrimony and orders. After an introductory lecture by Brant, I delivered a talk on the Catholic view of marriage, based on reason and revelation. My first major point was that Catholic teaching on marriage is in agreement with reason—social scientific data supports the view that the two-parent, heterosexual marriage is superior to all other arrangements for the raising of children. Since the state has a vested interest in the welfare of the next generation, the state justifiably identifies and protects the life-long mutual commitment of a man and woman—marriage.

After making this point, I went into a biblical narrative theology of marriage starting from Genesis 2 and moving through the Pentateuch and even into the Historical Books, pointing out how the narrative implicitly valorizes monogamy and critiques other arrangements—i.e. polygamy and homosexuality. My students will remember this as the “implicit critique of polygamy” in the Old Testament. Of course, this view is not original with me. It has deep roots in the Jewish interpretive tradition, and my eyes were opened to it by reading the superb Jewish biblical commentator Umberto Cassuto on Genesis.

I also mentioned the concept of marriage as the climax of the creation story (Genesis 1-2) and the iconic significance of marriage vis-à-vis the creation of mankind in the image of God. Marriage is two persons whose love becomes hypostasized (personified) in a third; inasmuch as this is true, it is iconic of the relations of the persons of the Trinity.

In any event, after the talk was over, an officer of the local secular humanist society, who happened to be in attendance, approached me cordially and shared with me that he disagreed with “everything” I had said, and invited me to debate the issue of marriage in a forum provided by his organization. I declined to debate, but offered to arrange someone else to do so. I contacted Brian Brown of the National Organization for Marriage, who has since accepted the offer to debate. We will see how that develops.

In any event, the encounter led to some self-reflection, and I began to wonder if I had overstated the case for the importance of the two-parent family, with biological father and mother present, for the raising of children. That led me to do some searching on the internet, which turned up a remarkable link to none other than that bastion of Catholic dogma, Time Magazine. Unbeknownst to me, since I, like many of my generation, no longer read the legacy (i.e. print) news media very much (internet is faster and cheaper), just last month Time ran a cover story on the importance of marriage to society. I’d like to call our readers’ attention to this Time Magazine article, which is worth the read.

This remarkable piece of reporting is notable for several acute insights that in fact support the case I was making for traditional marriage in New Orleans.

At one point, the Time article quotes Princeton sociologist, feminist and single mother Sara McLanahan: "Children who grow up in a household with only one biological parent," she found, "are worse off, on average, than children who grow up in a household with both of their biological parents, regardless of the parents' race or educational background." Of course, Princeton is a real center of Catholic bigotry, superstition, and fideism, right? McLanahan is making her point in the context of two-parent versus single parenting; but her observation also indicates why homosexual “marriages”, by their very nature, cannot provide an ideal context for raising children. Even if homosexual couples adopt a child, the child will necessarily be raised without at least one of her or his biological parents.

The Time article’s concluding questions are most poignant, and were, in fact, precisely the questions I raised, in different words, during my talk in New Orleans:

“The fundamental question we must ask ourselves at the beginning of the century is this: What is the purpose of marriage? Is it — given the game-changing realities of birth control [my emphasis], female equality and the fact that motherhood outside of marriage is no longer stigmatized — simply an institution that has the capacity to increase the pleasure of the adults who enter into it?”

Notice that the author recognizes the fundamental shift the wide-spread use of artificial birth control has had on the very notion of marriage in our society. By decoupling sex from procreation, children have become an optional rather than natural outcome of marriage. Children are OK if you’re “into that,” but have no intrinsic connection to marriage in the view of many. Hmmm, wasn’t there somebody, like maybe a Pope, who predicted that things would develop like that, way back in 1968?

Then the author proposes the alternative:

“Or is marriage an institution that still hews to its old intention and function — to raise the next generation, to protect and teach it, to instill in it the habits of conduct and character that will ensure the generation's own safe passage into adulthood?”

Precisely.

The Catholic model of marriage as the life-long commitment of a man and woman is confirmed by social sciences as the ideal for the happiness and well-being of children as well as the spouses (See this recent New York Times article).

There is not a conflict between faith and reason, Scripture and science on this issue.

Maximal Synthetic and Synchronic Exegesis

Hello, y'all readers of Sacred Page!

I'm saying "y'all" because I've just spent a weekend in New Orleans and feel partially Cajunified already. "Y'all" is actually an extremely useful word, because it supplies modern English with a second-person plural pronoun that has been absent for quite some time. Seventeenth-century English, memorialized in the King James Bible, could make a distinction between second-person singular (thee, thou) and second-person plural (ye, you)--a distinction we cannot make in Standard English today without awkward circumlocutions. Therefore, regional dialects supply one: the South generally uses "y'all"; southwestern Pennsylvania uses "yinz" (a contraction of "you ones"). But I digress.

Trying to be a full time professor, husband, father of seven, a faithful Catholic, and actually get any scholarship done is a tall order for me, as it is for my colleagues on this blog (mutatis mutandis--Brant and Michael don't have seven kids [yet]). One of the things you learn to do is to try to squeeze all the time you can out of the day by "multi-tasking." Today I had to drive my youngest son to the Cleveland Clinic--a six-hour round trip from humble Steubenville. Not wanting to lose all the time, I brought along my second son to read to me out of a book I'm working on, Jean Corbon's The Wellspring of Worship (Ignatius Press).

Corbon, like a good modern Frenchman, doesn't actually argue for a position or tell you what he's doing--he just begins describing his vision in beautiful semi-poetic language, and any argument behind his thought--if there is one--is either aesthetic ("it's so beautiful it compels me!") or implicit. It made me wonder if the last Frenchman to write with logical clarity was Thomas Aquinas (if teaching in Paris makes you French), but not being familiar enough with French culture, I decided I wasn't in a position to affirm that definitively. My apologies to the French if my impression of their literary style is inaccurate.

In any event, Corbon writes beautifully. The book is about liturgy, and the early chapters are about the divine economy or salvation history, which Corbon views as the true object of the celebration of the sacred liturgy. What fascinated me at times was the maximalism of Corbon's interpretation as he re-told the biblical story line. His basic perspective is that the water motif--a common one throughout Scripture, from the river of Eden in Gen 2 to the river from the New Jerusalem in the final chapters of Revelation--really points to a metaphysical reality: the continually self-outpouring of the persons of the Trinity, one to another, and the self-gift of the Godhead to humanity by the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Corbon's perspective leads him to make some striking statements. For example, he will affirm that the outpoured Holy Spirit is essentially what the patriarchs were digging for when they sunk wells during their sojourn in Canaan. Striking thought, no? It's the kind of thought one would expect from the Church Fathers but not from a twentieth-century theologian. So what do "y'all" think? It what sense can a Christian affirm that the patriarchs were really searching for the Holy Spirit as they dug wells in Canaan? What metaphysical presuppositions does such reflection on Scripture require? Or is this too "maximalist" for contemporary Christians to affirm? I may wade in with some more thoughts in a future post.

Are the Gospels Historical Biographies--Or Not?

Michael and I had a great time at the Catholic Biblical Association this past weekend.

Among the highlights of the weekend--the chief of which was meeting biblioblogger Jim West and being invited to a semi-liturgical ritual honoring Rudolf Bultmann, an invitation which we respectfully declined--was a lecture by John P. Meier summarizing the results of his fourth volume on the historical Jesus, A Marginal Jew: Volume 4, Law and Love (New York: Yale University Press, 2009).

Over the course of Meier's presentation, it became evident to me how fundamentally the question of the literary genre of the Gospels affects the way one deals with the historicity of various passages in the Gospels. If one, for example, takes the classical form-critical view that all four Gospels are the end-products of a long period of anonymous oral tradition, one will evaluate the historicity of episodes differently than if one thinks that they are historical biographies.

In that light, I recently found a rather revealing quote from Geza Vermes, at the beginning of his famous book, Jesus the Jew (Fortress, 1973). Vermes spends all of a paragraph on the important question of the genre of the Gospels (which is about one paragraph more than most books on the historical Jesus). In it, he says the following:

"It is generally agreed that, whilst maintaining a definite interest in time, space, and circumstance, the Synoptists did not aim to write history proper. Although they adopted the biographical literary form, their life of Jesus was intended principally as a vehicle for the preaching of the early Church. In consequence, however brilliantly analysed, the Gospels cannot be expected to provide more than a skeletal outline of Jesus of Nazareth as he really was." (Geza Vermes, Jesus the Jew, 42)

This is a fascinating quote. First , it reveal Vermes admitting that the literary genre of the Gospels is that of ancient biographies. Like biographies, they maintain a "definite interest in time, space, and circumstance," and they even adopted the biographical "literary form." Despite this, admission, Vermes goes on to claim that even though the Gospels 'look like' biographies, they aren't; rather, he claims the Gospels are a vehicle for "preaching." I don't know what ancient literary genre he has in mind here, but it seems to me like he's involved in a category mistake in which he is forcing the Gospels into the mold of say, the letter to the Hebrews, or James. But is that what they really are? Not biographies, but "preaching"? Really?

Second--and this is important--this quote shows that Vermes' skepticism about the Gospels ability to tell us anything more than a "skeletal outline" of Jesus' life derives principally from his decisions about their genre. Because they aren't biographies, they can't tell us very much about what biographies usually tell us about: what their subjects did and said.

Now, all this begs an important question: What if Vermes is wrong? What if the Gospels look like historical biographies because that's what they are? That is, after all, how genre usually works. What if, for example, when Luke says he intends to give an "accurate" account of what Jesus did and said, based on the testimony of "eyewitnesses" (Luke 1:1-4), he actually means it?

A Momentous New Publication

I just received a free copy in the mail (thanks Doubleday!) of what is truly a momentous publication: the new Catholic Bible Dictionary, edited by Scott Hahn (Doubleday, 2009), and running at almost 1000 double-columned pages. It's fantastic. From this day forward, I will be making this volume the first book that all of my students purchase. In addition to having everything you usually expect from a Bible dictionary (names, places, maps, definitions, etc.) here are just a few of the reasons everyone--both Catholic and Protestant Bible students--should consider this a must-own.

1. It's Catholic. There are literally dozens of Protestant and ecumenical Bible dictionaries, but this is the first uniquely Catholic Bible dictionary to be published in almost 50 years! (In English, at least). The last was written by the Jesuit John L. McKenzie in 1965, compiled on 3-by-5 notecards! (I knew one of his students.) This one has Scott Hahn as its general editor, and Scott's unique mastery of Scripture and theology shows on every page. As such, it is a unique compendium of treatments of biblical topics from a distinctively Catholic perspective, in a concise format packed with data. If you're a Catholic or Protestant whose ever wondered about the biblical bases for distinctively Catholic beliefs, then this Bible Dictionary is a one-stop-shop that contains references and arguments you simply won't find in any other Bible dictionary in print (including McKenzie). See, e.g., the articles on "Mary," which goes through the biblical evidence for Mary as the Ark of the New Covenant, Queen Mother of the Davidic Kingdom, the New Eve, and a Type of the Church. Other examples are the articles on the biblical bases of "Papal Primacy," "The Eucharist," "Purgatory," the "Canon," etc.
2. It's Packed with Information, including Long Articles on Major Subjects. This is no tiny pocket dictionary; again, it runs almost 1000 pages, double columns. One of the frustrations I have with many Bible dictionaries is that there's either too little information or more than you want (e.g., sometimes the ABD). This one's just right. It's meaty without being intimidating. I especially love the long articles on major subjects; they really are extremely well done and allow a person to dive in deep without being overwhelmed with data. This is a sign of a great editor--knowing when to keep short what needs to be kept short and when to give space to issues that need a fuller discussion. See, for example, the fantastic articles on "Biblical Criticism," "Inspiration", "Interpretation of the Bible," "Sacrifice," "Temple." The articles on "Covenant" and "Inspiration" are phenomenal, and worth the price of the whole book.
3. It Successfully Integrates Scripture and Theology. In the biblical guild, there's a whole lot of talk about "bridging the great divide" between biblical studies and dogmatic/systematic theology. But we still tend to keep producing Bible dictionaries without much theology and Theological dictionaries without much Scripture. Not so with the Catholic Bible Dictionary: it integrates the two seamlessly and authentically, in a way that is both refreshing and (in my humble opinion) way ahead of its time.  Again, check out the articles on "Inspiration," "Jesus Christ," "Temple," and "Typology" for a taste of this.

I could go on and on here, but I've got to go to bed. I hope this little bit whets your appetite for purchasing the Catholic Bible Dictionary. I haven't been this excited about a resource that I could both learn from myself and use with my students in years. God bless Scott Hahn for putting this thing together.

Oh, and one final plus: it's got a stinking gorgeous cover (kudos to the Doubleday cover art team!) and a great layout--it's 1 and 1/2 spaced, so no eye-headaches like most Bible dictionaries. It's actually pleasant to read this thing, which I can't say about most of my Bible dictionaries, which go right back on the shelf as soon as I'm done with them.

If you've ever wanted to understand what the Catholic Church really teaches about Sacred Scripture and what a truly Catholic biblical theology really looks like, then this is the Bible Dictionary for you.