For those interested, I’ve started the process of translating the weekly lectionary readings. Currently, I’m only engaging the New Testament readings (epistle, gospel), but I’m planning on moving to the Old Testament (both Hebrew and LXX) in the near future. I’m posting my translations on the following website:
Archive for September, 2007
This isn’t necessarily a music blog, but perhaps it should be. I was looking at my blog stats today, just to see where people are coming from and how they’re managing to stumble upon this page. The results were striking. If you will look at the following image, you will see that the majority of my visitors in the past couple of days have come here by searching the lyrics to that song “Ridin” by “Chamillionare.” I feel special and blessed, although I think the song is pretty ridiculous. For those who missed the post, here you go.
Over the past week or so, the critical study of the Bible has been a hot topic in my classes. Thus, I thought it might be nice to write a little post about it. Before I go any further, however, let me first clarify what is meant by “critical study.” Biblical criticism does not involve, as I understand it, a berating of the content of Scripture. It does NOT involve reading the Bible only to step back and criticize saying, “See, isn’t that stupid?” On the contrary, Biblical criticism involves a critical look at the text of the Bible from many different angles. Historical critics would say that perhaps the Bible isn’t the best sort of history book to be found. Literary critics would examine and compare the stories of the Bible with similar stories from the ancient world. Redaction critics examine the gospels as collections of material and ask questions like, “Why did Mark put that there, between this and that?
The question that has arisen more than once this week goes somewhat as follows:
“Is the critical study of the Bible a discipline helpful to the church? It is a fairly recent phenomenon, and the church existed for over a thousand years without scholars prying in the nature of the text, so why do we feel that it is so great now? What is to be gained by returning to a ‘pre-critical view’ of the Bible?”
Of course, the situation is more complicated, but that is the gist of it. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and I’ve been reading a book that I believe is trying to address this very question. In Unleashing the Scripture, Stanley Hauerwas writes about what he believes is the correct way to read the Bible. He concludes that we, meaning North Americans, should not be allowed to read the Bible on our own, namely because we are far too corrupted by senses of entitlement and individualism. He asserts that the Bible should only be read and can only be accurately be read within a community whose unity is constituted by the Eucharist. The critical study of the Biblical text, he maintains, has effectually cut the church out of the equation and has created a sect of scholars who are guilty of the same heresy as Fundamentalists…sola scriptura.
Sola scriptura is a well-founded tenet of the reformation and, as it is widely understood, implies that the Bible is, by itself, the sole source of authority for the Christian life and that it is self-authenticating. I am in complete agreement with Hauerwas that this is a heresy. I was raised in a non-reform tradition, in which I was taught about the “quadrilateral” of Scripture, Tradition, Reason and Experience. These four are held at equal levels, and they must all be used in every situation. One cannot trump the other, all are important.
Anyway, to get back to the topic of critical study, Hauerwas states quite vehemently that he does not have any interest in the historical critical method. He doesn’t know much about it and he doesn’t believe it is useful for the Church. I sometimes feel the same sentiment coming from my colleagues, although not quite as strongly as from Hauerwas. But still, the idea is there that the critical study of the Bible somehow prohibits you from being a “faithful Christian.” If you dissect the Bible, what are you left with?
Part of the problem is, in my mind, the way in which critical studies have been undertaken in the past. For the most part, scholars work alone amidst piles of dusty books, only surfacing once in a while to present their new research or respond to criticisms of their work. Part of the problem is that Biblical scholars often find themselves isolated from the Church which, ironically, birthed the very material that they are studying. This seems like a problem.
The reasons for their isolation remain many, but here are a few possibilities. First, I feel that persons in the church feel threatened by critical scholarship because they have been taught about the “inspiration” of the Bible without being taught what that means. The doctrine of inspiration seems to fall apart as soon as someone suggests that there might be an “error” in the text, punctuational or otherwise. Second, they feel threatened because critical scholarship seems largely inaccessible to them. Cutting edge scholarship is, for the most part, found in university libraries, not Barnes and Noble. Even if you can find a good book, half of it will be in Greek and German, so most people won’t be able to read it anyway. Scholars write for scholars, not for laypersons. Third, scholars isolate themselves because they feel as if the information they possess is too fragile, or too complex, for the “common person” to understand. They assume that they are smarter because there are more initials following their name, and that normal people just can’t quite grasp what it is that they are trying to say.
Before I risk becoming too cynical, let me say that the trends described in the preceding paragraph are slowly starting to shift…but there is still much work to be done. The questions still remain:
- Is it possible to return to the days of pre-critical studies?
- Even if it were possible, is it necessary?
- Is the critical study of the Bible like a Pandora’s Box?
- Even if we could, do we want to put the lid back?
(to be continued)
I spent the majority of the afternoon at the library. The paper that I’m researching has required me to read three full books over the weekend and, needless to say, I’m getting tired of being inside. When I left the library, I decided that I had earned the right to a short break. Marquette is right across the interstate from downtown Milwaukee, so I decided that a walk through the city might be a good idea. Turns out I was right!
Walking through Milwaukee, as is the case with any major city, will lead you into contact with many homeless people. I don’t know many (if any) people who are fond of being confronted by the homeless. If you gave money to everyone, you would be out of money yourself. If you stopped and listened to all of the stories, you would be 50 before it was all over. So, most of the time, we just keep walking.
Many of the homeless that you will encounter will simply ask, “Do you have any spare money?” Occasionally, however, you will find a homeless person who has crafted what they believe to be a brilliant story that will empty the pockets of anyone who hears it. The majority of these stories involve the desire to return to a far away home, a burned down house, or a car full of starving children. Most of the time, they don’t contain a word of truth. Sometimes, you hear a story that just stops you in your tracks. Once, when I was walking around Nashville, I was approached by a man who told me he was “a student at the university of destitution and hopelessness.” He continued, “I need money so that I can pay my tuition.” This was, by far, one of the most creative things I had heard all day, so I went and bought him some food.
As I was walking around downtown, I found myself standing at a light, waiting for the “walk” signal to appear. Then, I felt a tap on my right shoulder and I heard a voice say, “Excuse me sir, do you have a light?” I didn’t think this to be terribly odd, because there are people everywhere who need lights. But as I turned, I noticed that the request came from a short, bald, filthy man who was holding a lamp. Yes, one of those things that you have on the table and use to read. His lamp was light blue ceramic, without a shade, scuffed up and chipped. He was wearing headphones that weren’t plugged into anything. The lamp, coincidentally, didn’t have a bulb in it. I’m guessing that is what the light was for.
I told him I didn’t have a light, and so he asked if I had any money so that he could go and buy a new one. I’m not quite sure on the specifics of his situation, whether he was crazy, hungry, addicted or all of the above. But, for some reason, I was genuinely touched by the lamp toting man, so I reached for my wallet, only to discover that I had left it in my car. In fact, the only things I had on me were my phone and my car keys, neither of which I was willing to give him. I also had a pack of gum, which I held in my open palm to show that I didn’t have any money. He said, “Well, I’ll take some gum if you don’t mind.” I gave him two sticks, and he stuck them in his mouth, wrappers and all. He didn’t have any teeth, which was interesting to watch.
The walk signal came on and I turned to cross the road. I stopped for a second and said to him, “Next time I’m downtown, I’ll be sure to bring you a light bulb.” He smiled, still smacking on his gum and said, “Thanks buddy! That would be great.”
Today I spent a good part of the afternoon running errands…you know, that list of things that piles up as the week goes on, because you have somehow convinced yourself that you don’t have time to do them right then? Yes, that is what I spent my afternoon doing.
It was an exceptionally beautiful day in Milwaukee. The clouds were gone, it was about 80 degrees, and slightly breezy. I felt like rolling my windows down. Now, I don’t normally make a habit of turning my music up, but since my windows were down I couldn’t really hear it that well. So, I cranked it up a little bit. It wasn’t loud enough to bother people at stop lights, although I’m that you could hear it if your windows were down as well. This leads me to the next part of my story.
I had my ipod set to “Shuffle Songs.” For those who don’t know, this means that every song in your library is put into a pool and played at random. A nice feature for those days when you don’t really know what you want to listen to. Well, everything was going fine…so fine in fact that I lost track of what I was listening to and just started enjoying the day. I was stopped at a stoplight, and I glanced over to the car next to me, only to see that it was full of people laughing and dancing in their seats. They couldn’t be laughing at me, could they? Well, they were. In my ecstatic state, I had failed to realize that my ipod had begun playing “Mr. Roboto” by Styx. Yes, I own that song…nevermind why. There I was, sunglasses on, windows down, with my stereo blaring one of the dorkiest songs ever written.
Anyway, I sat there until the light turned green, pretending that I didn’t see them, and then I sped off into the distance. I then quickly grabbed the ipod and changed songs. Moments like these are nice, I think. They remind us that we are nowhere near as cool as we think.
Everyone has moments where they think, even for a second, that they may be mad. Mad, not in the sense of angry, but in the sense of having fallen completely off your rocker. Mad in the sense that you have perhaps read too much and your brain is pleading with you to give it just a little break. I had one of these moments today when I was sitting outside of a coffee shop by the lake.
I was reading Origen, a Christian author who lived and wrote in the 2nd and 3rd centuries. Now, anyone who has read Origen knows that he is slightly “off” in the way that he does theology. I don’t personally believe (as many do) that he was guilty of heresy, but rather I believe he was simply guilty of a vivid imagination. But Origen only provides the backdrop for my dip into questions of my own sanity.
I was also listening to my classical music playlist, which is a personal favorite of mine for reading/studying/writing. I like classical music because my mind is too simple to follow it, and as a result it fades into the background and enables me to be more productive. As the playlist moved on, however, it suddenly faded in from the background and consumed my attention. Beethoven’s “für elise” was playing, and all I could think about was McDonalds. Strange, yes? I thought so too.
So there I sat, listening to a piano masterpiece, thinking about the most God awful fast food available to anyone with a dollar. My dog’s breakfast is of higher quality than the meat that they serve at McDonalds. So, why the connection with one of the greatest, most recognizable melodies in the world?
I ruminated on this for about ten minutes before I went to the source of all my facts, the internet. As is usually the case with the internet, I had my answer in about three seconds. There it was, staring me in the face…McDonalds produced a commercial in the 1980s that was set to the tune of für elise. I knew it well, back in the day, because one of my favorite videotapes as a kid was recorded from TV and this commercial played during the breaks. The scene is a piano recital, and the main character is a young girl who doesn’t want to play in the recital. Her father, as all good parents do, bribed her by promising McDonalds after the recital was over. This is enough, and she gets on stage to play. As she starts to play, we hear her sing the following words in her head:
Oh I wish I were already there, instead of here, playing this song
Oh I would have a big chocolate shake, a cheeseburger, and also fries
And I would eat the fries myself, and not give any to my dumb brother
Hands off they’re mine all mine
Oh boy my recital is almost done, it wasn’t bad, I’m still alive
And now I can have my chocolate shake, my cheeseburger, and also fries
She then concludes the song by inserting the familiar McDonalds jingle. Turns out I’m not stark raving mad!!! For those who are interested, someone has posted the commercial on YouTube.
Whenever you find yourself in new surroundings, be it a new city, country, job or neighborhood, it is important to take a moment and identify your nemesis. Contrary to popular belief, the nemesis doesn’t have to be someone that you hate or would like to throw out of a window. In fact, I would not recommend either of them, in keeping with the spirit of Christian love and charity.
The nemesis, rather, is a person who can be described as your exact opposite, although you may find that you share in common more than you like to admit. They are generally as intelligent as you, possibly more so, and they tend to share your interests. They act friendly, and you reciprocate. However, something about them just gets under your skin and squirms around like an exotic bug.
I am happy (and nervous) to announce that I have found my nemesis already. I am only starting my third week at Marquette and I have already pegged him (for men, you must find a male nemesis…women apply the same). I’m not sure if he recognizes me as his adversary as of yet, but he probably will in the near future. That is just how the game goes.
Today is my dog’s birthday. Exactly two years ago, on this day, I was at the dog park talking to a fellow dog owner. As most dog owners do, they were asking me unusual questions about my dog.
An example of a question:
“What is her favorite food?”
My response:
“Well, I’m not sure, she eats the same thing every day.”
Anyway, this dog owner finally asked me what my dog’s birthday was. I thought this was a fairly ridiculous question, being that I had already told her that my dog was a rescue. They didn’t find her wandering around in downtown Atlanta with a copy of her birth certificate, so I’m not really sure what her birthday is. But, I figured the 9th of September was as good a day as any other. So, I said assuredly, “Its today. My dog’s birthday is today.”
And so it stands, my dog was born on the 9th of September, 2004. Happy Birthday Dallas!
