Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Right and Wrong, Good and Evil

While writing this, I realized that Matthew at Liberal Jesus made a post about the same topic. I'm still posting this, however, because I think that my post in part answers a question that he asks.

In a comment on Liberal Jesus, Micheal Ejercito said:
I find nothing wrong with the idea of God ordering Israel to do genocide. God determines what is right and what is wrong.
I personally loathe this explanation of morality. I cannot deny it makes sense, no. If God creates the universe and has ultimate power over everything in it, who are we to challenge his divine authority?

I personally do not think that we will ever need to challenge his authority. I base this belief on my second axiom of divinity: God is not a bastard. (The first axiom is, "God exists.") By this, I mean that I believe God is inherently good. I believe he loves us, that he loves his entire creation, and as such, he acts towards his creation in a moral fashion.

But does that mean that God himself determines what is right or wrong? What if God were to change his mind? And, as Matthew asks, what god gets to decide what is right or wrong?

Morality has to come from a place other than God for two reasons:
  1. God does not seem to speak personally to every person, or at least, many people with dissenting moral beliefs continue to claim that they have each been spoken to by God.
  2. If our opinion of what is right and wrong is based only on what God says, then why does it matter? We're not good people, we're just doing what we're told, because the person telling us what to do is bigger than we are, and he might beat us up.
The first reason is the most practical; everyday we all hear different opinions about what is right and what is wrong, and these people often claim that God has spoken to them (if not out loud, at least in their hearts). Even in the Bible, there are dissenting beliefs. James believes that Christians should be circumcised, and Paul thinks the practice is pointless and unnecessary. So when two people give us different explanations for what God thinks is right and wrong, who do we believe?

The second reason is less practical, but far more disturbing if given any serious thought. We assume God to be good, because the idea of an evil God is horrifying almost beyond our comprehension. But what if? If God were to tell you to do something you knew to be abhorrent and evil, and he said to you, "It is good if you do it, today, because I am making it good, for you, today," what would you do? Can good and evil be malleable based on what God wants at the time?

Like I said before, I do not think that God can be evil. I don't think it works with the concept of God. Basically, if God were to turn out to be evil, I would not consider that being God. If he was the only thing even approaching divinity, then I would have to believe that there was no God, just a capricious, evil, omnipotent being. But "good" is part of my definition for God.

But then I reach the same problem as before: how do I define "good?"

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Joshua chapters 4-6

Continued from Joshua chapters 1-3

After crossing the Jordan, God tells Joshua to set up twelve stones in memory of the crossing. Joshua gets twelve men, one from each tribe, and has them go back into the Jordan to take one stone each from the area where the priests are standing with the ark (which is still holding back the river). They set up the stones in the new camp, to remind their descendants of their miraculous crossing. This circle of stones would be known as Gigal, and later became an important religious center for the Israelites.

There seems to be two sets of stones mentioned. Joshua 4:9 says that Joshua set up twelve stones in the middle of the river, and that "they are there to this day." Is he replacing the twelve stones that were set up at Gigal? Or is this an older legend that was merged with the one which describes Gigal?

After all the Israelites cross the Jordan (the Reubenites, Gadites, and the half-tribe of Manesseh going first), there was an Israelite army 40,000 strong waiting to attack Jericho. God exalts Joshua before Israel, and they are in awe of him, and then he commands the priests to come out of the Jordan with the ark. As soon as the priests cross, the river falls back into place.

Chapter 5 opens begins by describing how all the kings of the Amorites and the Canaanites were terrified of the Israelites, because they had heard of how the Jordan had been parted for them. Word seems to travel incredibly fast; are Canaanites and Israelites talking to each other? It seems more like this was just a way for the writing to emphasis how powerful the Israelites were.

God tells Joshua to circumcise the Israelites again, for though the ones who had come out of Egypt had been circumcised, they had all been killed by God in the desert. The current Israelites were the children of the Exodus generation, and needed to be circumcised before God would give Canaan to them. Joshua makes flint knives and has them all circumcised. I assume that he delegated this task, as circumcising at least 40,000 men by himself would probably take awhile. Afterwards, they remain camped at Gigal until they finished healing.

The place where Joshua circumcised at least 40,000 men is named as Gibeath-haaraloth, which translates to "The Hill of Foreskins." I can't imagine why the translators generally keep the Hebrew word instead.

On "the fourteenth day of the month" (Josh. 5:10), the Israelites keep the Passover. The next day, they begin to eat the food that the land Canaan itself provides them. Manna, which had long kept them alive during their trek through the desert, stopped falling from the sky on that day. It seems like they were happy about the change, as the verse is written like the change is a reason for celebration.

Joshua, while planning the seige of Jericho, is visited by the "commander of the army of The Lord." Joshua falls to the ground and worships, and is told to remove his sandals, because he is on holy ground.

This seems to come from a time when Yahweh's court was still composed of other deities. While later books would somewhat demote beings such as the commander of the army of Yahweh to mere angels, or messengers, there seems to be a definite distinction in the earlier texts. Note that the verse does not say that Joshua worships God, or The Lord; it is almost implied that the commander-entity is worthy of Joshua's worship. (Of course, there is no question that the commander-entity is a lesser being, and entirely subservient to Yahweh.)

Chapter 6 begins with the siege of Jericho. The city is locked up tight as to defend against the army of 40,000 blessed soldiers, but God tells Joshua his plan to destroy the city. Joshua is to march around the city with his entire army. They should be led by the priests carrying the ark, which will in turn be led by seven priests carrying ram horns. After seven days, the priests will blow the ram horn trumpets and the entire army should shout, which should knock down the walls of Jericho. Joshua follows this plan, making sure that until the seventh day shout, no one makes a noise.

The plan works perfectly, and the walls collapse. Joshua makes sure that the soldiers know not to kill Rahab or anyone inside her house, and that they should not loot things "devoted to destruction" (6:18). Also, everything made of gold, silver, bronze, or iron should be considered sacred to The Lord, and put in The Lord's treasury. "Then they devoted to destruction by the edge of the sword all in the city, both men and women, young and old, oxen, sheep, and donkeys" (6:21).

Rahab and her family are brought out of their home by the spies who first met her, and the Israelites burn the entirety of Jericho to the ground. Everything except the gold, silver, bronze, and iron is destroyed utterly. When the Israelites conquer a city, they do not play around. Rahab and her family join the Israelites, and their descendants are considered part of the nation.

Joshua ends the chapter by swearing an oath to kill the firstborn and the youngest of anyone who ever tries to rebuild Jericho.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

The Middle Road

I've long known of Buddhism's teaching of the "Middle Way," that neither excess nor asceticism provides one with a good way to live one's life. When Siddhartha left his rich life on the search for enlightenment, he first followed a path of severe asceticism; the legend goes that at one point, he could survive on a single grain of rice per day. However, this did not lead him to his destination. He realized that forcing oneself to live in total austerity was as much of a purposeless indulgence as was to live in extravagance and debauchery. The true road, he discovered, was the way between the extremes.

I was reading, today, the book To Be a Jew, by Rabbi Hayim Halevy Donin. I was struck when I came across a section entitled "The Middle Road." In this section, Rabbi Donin quotes the incredibly influential Medieval Jewish philosopher Maimonides:
Lest a person says: Since jealousy, lust, and desire for honor are evil ways . . . I will separate myself completely from them and go to the other extreme, to the point where he refuses to enjoy the pleasure of food by abstaining from eating meat and drinking wine, where he refuses to marry a wife, or to live in a pleasant house or to wear nice clothing but instead chooses to dress in rags . . . this too is an evil way, and it is forbidden to go that way.
Maimonides, whose Hebrew name was Moshe ben Maimon but is more widely known by his Greek name, was referring to a section of the book Ecclesiastes (which is generally attributed to King Solomon, though his name never appears in the text itself). Ecclesiastes says:
Do not be too righteous, and do not act too wise; why should you destroy yourself? Do not be too wicked, and do not be a fool; why should you die before your time? It is good that you should take hold of the one, without letting go of the other; for the one who fears God shall succeed with both (Eccles. 7: 16-18).
I have to mention here that Maimonides's name, in Arabic, is Abu Imran Mussa bin Maimun ibn Abdallah al-Qurtubi al-Israili, and that he's often referred in Jewish works by the acronym Rambam. Sorry, just had to get that off my chest. Whew.

It is not good to indulge in excess and evil, of course not. However, it is at best only slightly better to indulge in extreme "righteousness." I sincerely doubt that either Maimonides or the writer of Ecclesiastes meant that it was wrong to be very good and abstain from evil, but rather that it is wrong to interpret the rules in such an extreme fashion. It's wrong to drink to excess, but it is just as wrong to abstain entirely under the pretense that "Wine is evil!" It's wrong to become a glutton, but it's just as wrong to proclaim that eating is a sin.

I think, here, that the emphasis needs to be on the proclamation of the self as "righteous" and the condemnation of the avoided act as "evil." If one did simply did not enjoy eating meat, then would there be anything wrong with that?

I'm reminded of a certain type of person--I've met several of these people during my life, and perhaps some of you have as well. They don't watch TV. Not only do they not watch TV, but they don't even have a TV. Not only that, but they take every opportunity available to bring up the fact that they don't watch, no, that they don't even own a TV. They take an enormous amount of pride in the fact that they are "better" than the rest of us plebeians, glued to the idiot-box.

Is it wrong not to watch TV? Of course not. Maybe you think it's boring, maybe you have other hobbies you enjoy more, or maybe you just don't have the time. What's sinful is the extreme
moral position taken up by these people; the insinuation that the rest of the population is beneath them in some way. Of course, it's highly doubtful that they would admit that they look down on us for owning a TV . . . but the tone of their voice when they proclaim their own TV-lessness tells another story.

Bringing in the NT somewhat, I'd like to also mention that though Jesus certainly seems to come down closer to the ascetic side of the fence, compared to the extreme asceticism of John the Baptist, who came from the desert "clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and . . . ate locusts and wild honey" (Mark 1:6), Jesus's life was spent quite close to what could be called a "Middle Way."

This message seems to be lost on many modern people, whether they are Christian or not. Even atheists fall prey to this; though rationalism is not without its benefits, at least half the time I hear someone expound upon its advantages, he or she is focusing entirely upon how much better it is than the "imaginations of the superstitious."

I must admit, however, that at least in this country, it is the Christians who fail in this fashion most often. It seems to rarely be enough to simply do what one thinks is right and correct, one must also stand tall on the pulpit and denounce how horrible the people are who don't agree with what you think is right and correct. While this may persuade some weak-willed souls, sad and afraid, into converting, it is entirely the wrong way to go about things. It makes the church look bad, it makes Christians look bad, and it thereby makes me look bad.

I don't take kindly to that.


Sunday, February 10, 2008

"The Trap of Biblical Literalism"

My title here comes from a post on Liberal Jesus, where some of the thoughts I've had about the Bible were expressed quite beautifully. Matthew writes about his personal journey away from Biblical literalism in a heartfelt, poignant manner that makes me glad to have read it.

Literalism is bad because it requires an all or nothing approach to the Bible. Either ALL of the Bible is literally true, or NONE of it is. The logic, as it was expressed to me just the other day, is that "If the Bible isn't literally true, then we have no proof of anything, and we have no reason to believe anything." While it was this past week that I most recently heard this reasoning, I've heard it many times previously as well.

The biggest logical problem with this statement is the implication that we have "proof" of the Bible's truth, if the entire Bible is literally true. By that reasoning, anything that claims to be true must be true; it's basically the definitive example of circular reasoning.

My biggest problem with the above statement, however, is where it's asserted that without complete literal inerrancy, "we have no reason to believe anything." That makes faith seem so small, so fragile, and it makes me wonder how terrified these people must be of losing their faith. If the slightest bit of rational thought enters into their religion, it will relentlessly destroy everything that they believe in, and so it cannot be allowed. I once saw a church that had a marquee that read, "Open mind, open heart, open soul." A religious woman with me commented, "But isn't having an open mind a bad thing?"

I feel sorry for people who live in that kind of terror, all the while wrapped in a cocoon of denial that they tell themselves is safe and warm. There is nothing to fear from rational thought; there is nothing to fear from education. What should be feared is the stagnant darkness that literalism brings about, the faithful terror of not allowing oneself to think. Matthew, in his post, sums up the other option wonderfully:
You can see the contradictions in the text now, but they don't scare you. They simply point to he beautiful frailty of the real people behind the Bible, a frailty that you see all around you every day. As you change the way you interpret the Bible, you change your theology. You begin ignoring those parts of the Bible that endorse prejudice, or misogyny, or genocide. You allow other voices, like science and your own experience, to inform your understanding of God.

No longer is it necessary to pour over the New Testament, looking for a verse that implies that women should not be treated as the Deuteronomy demands. You can simply accept that Deuteronomy was written at a different time, for a different people. While it may be an important text, it is not a set of cosmic rules handed down from God to tell you how to live. If a Psalm implies the existence of a God that you would consider immoral and horrific, you don't have to tear it apart with rationalizations until you can live with what it's saying. You can know instead that the ancient Hebrew who wrote that Psalm understood God differently, and you can use the Psalm to gain a greater understanding of how the ancients texts were informed by that worldview.

It's liberating, and it's a step forward. Instead of connecting to God primarily through a book and using your mind and soul as mere tools that you may make use of, the book itself becomes a tool as you begin to connect to God primarily through your self.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Format

I've decided on a basic format for the blog. At least, one I'll try to stick to in most cases.

As mentioned in my first post, I do plan on making both Sunday and Thursday primarily Bible-focused days. On Sunday, I think I'll look at certain passages in the New Testament and thinking about what they mean--both for us now and for the people to whom the text was originally written for. On Thursday, I'm going to focus on reading the Old Testament.

Thus, this coming Sunday will be my first NT post, and next Thursday will see me continuing my treatment of the book of Joshua. Between these posts, I'll probably have a few less specifically focused thoughts here and there, but I hope to keep my Sunday/Thursday schedule going for awhile.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Joshua chapters 1-3

It's Thursday, so it's time for a Biblical post of some sort. It took me a few minutes to decide what to write about because I decided to primarily do New Testament readings on Sunday, and I don't know all that much about the Old Testament. I decided to do Joshua, though, because it struck me as exceptionally interesting at the time.

Joshua basically takes up the narrative at the end of Deuteronomy and sets the social and political stage for the events that take place in Judges. Joshua is the beginning of what scholars call the "Deuteronomistic history," or the DH, which includes Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. They're named such because their theology is so closely based upon Deuteronomy, and it's likely that they were authored by the same person or group.

(I'll discuss the Documentary Hypothesis, which this is all based on, in a later post. I should have done that first, but I wanted to keep my promise of having a Biblical post every Thursday.)

So Deuteronomy is over; Moses is dead, and the Israelites are right across the Jordan from Canaan (their Promised Land). Joshua opens up with God telling Joshua how he's going to
back him up and help the Israelites kick all kinds of ass in Canaan. That is, if they are "careful to act in accordance with all the law that my servant Moses commanded you; do not turn from it" (Josh. 1:7). God is very strict about his commandments, something that is stressed exceptionally hard in the DH.

Joshua tells his people to get ready, giving specific instructions to the Reubenites, Gadites, and the "half-tribe of Manasseh" (1:12). It sounds like their piece of the Promised Land is on the side of the Jordan that they've already occupied, because Joshua specifically tells them that although they have their land, they still have to help the rest of the twelve tribes invade Canaan. They don't mind, and assure Joshua that they'll kill anyone who disobeys his orders.

Moving into chapter 2, Joshua sends two spies from Shittim (the last major Israelite encampment before crossing the Jordan) into Canaan to scope out the situation with Jericho. They sneak into the city and hide out in a prostitute named Rahab's house. She hides them from the Jericho guard and helps them escape in exchange for their promise that she and her family would be spared. They agree, but only if she ties a certain crimson cord in the window of her house, and hides all of her family inside.

The crimson cord seems to allude to the lamb's blood in Exodus: "For The Lord will pass through to strike down the Egyptians; when he sees the blood on the lintel and on the two doorposts, The Lord will pass over that door and will not allow the destroyer to enter your houses to strike you down" (Exod. 12:23). Similarly, the Israelites seem intent to slaughter everyone in Jericho, only passing over the house which has a crimson cord marking it.

Rahab tells the spies about how all the city is trembling in fear because they have heard of The Lord's great power, and that he fights for Israel. She says she has heard about how The Lord parted the yam suf (commonly known as the Red Sea, but better translated as the Sea of Reeds), and how everyone knew they were doomed. The spies relate this to Joshua in 2:24, "moreover all the inhabitants of the land melt in fear before us."

The God of the Hebrew Bible rarely seems to give any thought of mercy to people who are not Hebrew. (It could be argued that he had very little even for the Israelites, but that's another post.) Here we have a city full of people that are apparently quaking in their shoes in fear of the approaching Israelites, and though surely most of these terrified people would surrender, only one woman and her family will be saved. It is interesting, however, the way that the prostitute is portrayed as the head of her family.

As chapter 3 starts, Joshua explains to the Israelites how they will move into Canaan. They will follow the priests who carry "the ark of the covenant of The Lord your God" (3:3) but they will be careful not to come within two thousand cubits. This distance seems to serve to represent the ark's extreme holiness; the common folk must stand back, and only the priests are allowed to come near it. The sharp division between the sacred and the profane is notable as something that most (and some would argue all) religions share.

After a pep-talk from God and Joshua, the Israelites move towards the Jordan. When the priests who are carrying the ark touch the edge of the river, the waters split apart before the Israelites. The priests stand near the center of the riverbed with the ark, apparently keeping the waters at bay with the ark's holy power, while the Israelites cross over.

I find it interesting that the text does not specify that God is holding back the Jordan. In Exodus 14, it's repeatedly stressed that The Lord is the one acting upon the river, but in Joshua it seems as if the ark of the covenant is itself a supernatural artifact with incredible powers. These powers may come from God, but they do not seem to be the direct result of his will.

Continued in Joshua chapters 4-6



Harper Collins Study Bible - NRSV

Most of the readings I'll be doing will come from the Harper Collins Study Bible. It makes use of the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, or the NRSV, which is widely considered the most accurate English translation of the Bible, especially in scholarly circles.

There has been some controversy over the NRSV's elimination of many instances of gender-specific language. For instance, many places where the original text might specify "brothers" or "man," the NRSV translates as "siblings" or "adult."

I do not entirely understand the problem here. Even in the King James Version, "b'nei Yisrael" is translated as "children of Israel," though "b'nei" translates directly to "sons of." Even the English Standard Version (ESV) which was created almost directly in response to the NRSV's use of gender-neutral language translates this as "children" instead of "sons."

Some accuse the NRSV of pandering to modern feminism, but I think it's much more like it's looking through ancient sexism. It's not at all clear that the ancient texts were even specifically sexist in these cases; when Tolkien writes of the race of Man in The Lord of the Rings, do people assume that he is indicating only the males?

In any event, using the very little Hebrew that I do know, the NRSV seems to match up to my Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia much more closely than the other translations I've used. As I advance in my Hebrew, I'll try to look at more text and see how it compares.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Identity and Purpose

I am a Christian.

What does that mean? One of the purposes of this blog, a minor one, is to answer that question. What am I? How do I classify myself? Unfortunately, most of the descriptors I can use for myself are negative: I am not a fundamentalist, I am not a literalist, I am not an atheist, nor am I a relativist. Surely there is some description that deals with what I am, rather than what I am not.

The primary purpose of this blog is to explore what it means to live in a world where there does exist a thing called the sacred. Being a Christian myself, I will primarily discuss Christianity here, but it may not be the only thing I talk about. Posts will often concern Biblical text, and there will be at least one post on Sundays and Thursdays that will always concern Biblical text. Other posts may deal with other aspects of religion or spirituality. Most will probably be related to Christianity, but everything will be related to humanity as a whole.

This blog is not discriminatory. Fundamentalists, literalists, atheists, and relativists are free to read and comment. It should go without saying that I welcome discourse from adherents of other religions, but I'll say it anyway. Agree or disagree with me, I don't mind. Feel free to argue with me, or if I'm factually inaccurate, even correct me.

I am not a professional Biblical scholar, though I am a student of religious studies. I do not profess to know "everything there is to know" about the Bible. I am a scholar, however, as is anyone who wishes to join me in this endeavor. The first time a person opens the Bible to read it in a scholarly fashion, they are a Biblical scholar. So join me; let’s learn something.