Blind Man Moves

Small Wonk-Tangent

Doing some real research today, and ran across this helpful observation: The Blind Man (men) of Jericho move from the exit to the entrance in Luke.  Since we know Luke is using Mark, the question is: why the change?

First, Luke inserts the two stories Lk 19.1-10 (Zacchaeus) and Lk 19.11-28 (Minas) between his use of a Markan sequence (Mk 10.13-11.10).  Second, Zacchaeus takes place inside Jericho, not allowing Jesus to arrive and depart immediately.  But since, he moves the Blind Man to the entrance of Jericho and exits via the Parable of the Minas, we can conclude that Luke (or an earlier source) sees a very necessary link in the narrative sequence from the Zacchaeus’ story to the Minas (as 19.11 suggests).  What do you think this could be?  Any other thoughts on the synoptic comparison below?

(Matthew 20:29-34 ESV) (Mark 10:46-52 ESV) (Luke 18:35-43 ESV)
And as they went out of Jericho, a great crowd followed him. And behold, there were two blind men sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that Jesus was passing by, they cried out,
 “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” The crowd rebuked them, telling them to be silent, but they cried out all the more,
“Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” And stopping, Jesus called them and said,
   “What do you want me to do for you?” They said to him, “Lord, let our eyes be opened.” And Jesus in pity touched their eyes, and immediately they recovered their sight and followed him.
And they came to Jericho. And as he was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a great crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, the son of Timaeus, was sitting by the roadside. And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more,

“Son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart. Get up; he is calling you.” And throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. And Jesus said to him,




“What do you want me to do for you?” And the blind man said to him, “Rabbi, let me recover my sight.” And Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your faith has made you well.” And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him on the way.

 

As he drew near to Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging. And hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what this meant. They told him, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.” And he cried out,  “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” And those who were in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more,

“Son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus stopped and commanded him to be brought to him. And when he came near, he asked him,

 

 

 

 

“What do you want me to do for you?” He said, “Lord, let me recover my sight.” And Jesus said to him, “Recover your sight; your faith has made you well.” And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him, glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God.

An ‘Other’ Example: Mark’s “Crowd”

(A follow up to #2 in the LOST in Theology Series)

To give another example of the function of an unidentified group within a single narrative, consider for a moment at the character development of “The Crowd” in Mark:

He went out again beside the sea, and all the crowd was coming to him, and he was teaching them. (Mark 2:13 ESV)

Jesus withdrew with his disciples to the sea, and a great crowd followed, from Galilee and Judea and Jerusalem and Idumea and from beyond the Jordan and from around Tyre and Sidon. When the great crowd heard all that he was doing, they came to him. (Mark 3:7-8 ESV)

And he said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a desolate place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they ran there on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of them. When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. And he began to teach them many things. (Mark 6:31-34 ESV)

And when they came to the disciples, they saw a great crowd around them, and scribes arguing with them. And immediately all the crowd, when they saw him, were greatly amazed and ran up to him and greeted him. (Mark 9:14-15 ESV)

And immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas came, one of the twelve, and with him a crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders. (Mark 14:43 ESV)

And the crowd came up and began to ask Pilate to do as he usually did for them. And he answered them, saying, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” For he perceived that it was out of envy that the chief priests had delivered him up. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release for them Barabbas instead. And Pilate again said to them, “Then what shall I do with the man you call the King of the Jews?” And they cried out again, “Crucify him.” And Pilate said to them, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Crucify him.” So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified. (Mark 15:8-15 ESV)

How does the so-called “crowd” change?  What’s its effect on you (the reader) or on Mark’s audience?

Friday’s Favorites 2/10/12

Karl Barth

Favorite post this week goes to Professor Kirk’s post on Knowing the Hidden God.  It was nice to hear some critique and good analysis, especially of my variety.  He says,

As an overall theological question, however, I think that the one Barth is pressing here continues to delineate different theological groups.

What does it mean to be a fundamentalist? an evangelical? a progressive? a liberal?

In part, the points along this scale are determined by the extent to which scripture as God’s revelation is seen to come into various cultures, from without—critiquing us and calling us to the God who is other, and the extent to which we see cultural moments shaping, limiting, and providing new opportunities for God’s revelation in the world.

Is revelation entirely a word from without? To what extent is it a word contextualized in time?

And this is the million dollar question:  How can you go from ‘Revelation’ from God into a human brain (and out towards humanity) without any corruption of data so-to-speak?  And who gets to say whether one has had that Revelation from God?  If you can show me a convincing positive answer, I’ll be ready to reconsider some of my views.  Until then…

Next week, we continue and aim to finish the LOST in Theology series.

Destiny calls: you are here for a purpose… aren’t you?

LOST with the Others

2nd in the LOST in Theology Series. (1st)

This is about gaps–not logical gaps, lacunae–but about questions the story creates and then doesn’t answer.  Case in point: in LOST, who the heck are the Others?  What do they want with children, you know, Walt?  There are more of these gaps, and from having watched all the episodes consecutively in a short time, they stand out more.  Now, this could be a blog about pondering who the Others are, picking out pieces of evidence and making hypothoses based upon that evidence.  But that’s exactly the kind of thinking that I try to guard against on this blog.  Rather, I want to take this opportunity to turn the analytical eye back on the LOST viewer.  How do the Others play on LOST viewers?

For me, Seasons 1-3 drove me to ask the question: Who are the others?  In many ways, the genre of Lost (a serialed, weekly thriller) demands that it has constant unanswered questions, most of which are answered as new questions are posed during Season transitions.  It is a form used to a lesser extent by Dickens and Dostoyevsky, but still directed by market forces.  The genre structure keeps you watching, like an addictive chemical that makes you crave for it nightly.  But if such a driving question of the narrative is never answered, it is fair then to ask its function.

Narratives are primarily functional, somewhat rhetorical, and rarely ontological (concerned with the true nature of things, like Systematic Theology or Creedal statments).  They lead the audience through doors that they choose, passing other doors by.  The identity of the Others is one of those unopened doors, simply because the author, the narrative, enters into another door.  Then why include them at all?  The answer, I believe is functional, and a clue lies in the wisdom of Locke again:

LOCKE: He is one of them. To Rousseau, we’re all Others. I guess it’s all relative, huh? (One of Them, S2.14)

We are all others.  The Others fuction as a backdrop, so we can see the shapes and true colors of the 815ers, and we (the viewers) can engage and reflect on the 815ers’ moral choices.  We do this in real life, locating those we disagree with the most (GOP, Democrats, Muslims, etc.) and defining our own identities and morals against the backdrop of those ‘others.’  But in real life, those views are not always challenged.  But narratives often help us to see the moral complexity in others–most of Literature has this purpose.  In LOST, we encounter touching back stories of Juliet and Benjamin Linus.  We wrestle with Benjamin Linus, his betrayal, his tyranny, his redemtion, his further betrayal, his further redemption, and in the end we are no longer left with the burning curiosity of who the Others are, nor why they needed children.  That door is left closed.

As a Bible teacher, I’m often asked a question that shows me that when many people read the Bible, they are looking for ontological answers, rather than reading a functional narrative: “When did Jesus realize he was God?” (for other face-palming questions, look here.)  Truth is, there’s little (read: nothing) of Jesus’ divinity in the first three Gospels, so… But in John, we are given four statements that equate Jesus (or the Word) with God (1.1; 5.18; 8.58; 10.30).  However, in none of these statments does Jesus explicitly say that he is God.  In fact, Jesus’ suggested divinity is one of those doors closed by John’s narrative.  We glance at it as we pass it by, but we are more concerned with other things: Jesus’ farewell speech, his clash with Pilate, his call to feed his sheep.  As responsible readers/viewers, we must let the narratives take us where it leads, asking good questions along the way, but letting them linger as they do in the narrative.

What other unanswered questions are in LOST?  In what other ways to Christians skip the narrative to find theological answers?

Are you “one of them”?

LOST in Determinism

1st in the LOST in Theology series.

I was fascinated with the Free-Will/Predestination debate as a young Christian, but now I see it as silly and trivial. (I conflate a lot of ideas here intentionally, namely Determinism, Fatalism, Predeterminism, and Predestination.  Wiki them.  I will use ‘fate’ and ‘determinism’ interchangeably for brevity’s sake, except when I talk about ‘Social Determinism’.) But the debate between Free Will and Determinism is popular, used in many pop cultural medium, specifically in our case, LOST.  In short, it’s a highly marketable theme.

Locke is the biggest proponent of ‘fate’:

“We were brought here for a purpose, for a reason, all of us. Each one of us was brought here for a reason.”

Locke’s fate helps open the hatch.  Locke’s destiny blows up the submarine.  Locke returns to the mainland to convince the Oceanic 6 that it is their fate to return to the island.  In the end, within the story, it appears that Locke was correct, for Jacob had indeed ‘fated’ them all to the island.  But herein lies our problem, the gap between story and life.  Stories have ends, but in life, ‘the end’ is a relative and moveable marker, somewhat determined by one’s religious views.  So while fate is internally verifiable within a narrative, fate is scientifically unverifiable, because there is no last word in life.  None of us know to what extent our actions are fated or determined, nor to what extent we have free-will.

Free Will too is problematic, and a bit misunderstood.  One is free to will as one pleases, but this is not the same as the freedom to choose, nor to act.  And while one may be free to will, how one’s preferences are determined is up for debate, and certainly they are not created in a vacuum within an individual.  And at the moment of choice, choices are manipulated and limited by forces external to the individual.  Locke can will to remain on the island and will to have others stay with him.  But when he meets the group of survivors by the radio tower, he cannot simply choose those options.  The whole community of survivors is there limiting him from carrying out his will (although he does kill Naomi in his strongest enactment of his free will), and this limitation is a form of social determinism, a category of invisible social forces that press back against the will of the individual, evidenced by advertising, herding, market engineering, etc. So, it appears that neither Free Will nor Fate/Determinism have much to do with the lived experience of everyday life.   

A better way to think, in my opinion, is this: if a scientifically unverifiable faith claim is stated (i.e. ‘We were brought here for a purpose), then its function (rhetorical force) is far more important than the so-called “truth” of the statement.  Locke vs. Jack, Fate vs. Free Will: what is important is not which side is correct or more truthful, but that the competing claims force us to choose.  The survivors are consistently forced to choose between Locke and Jack, it drives the early narrative.  So forget about the Fate/Free Will debate, and ask yourself what each side is fighting for: there you will find the real argument.

The irony is this though: in making competing claims between Fate and Free Will, and forcing individuals to choose, one is actually participating in a form of persuasion that is akin to social determinism.  The competing claims are part of a social framework that limits the choices of an individual.  Was Locke meant to remain on the island–then why did he leave?  Was Peter destined to deny Jesus?  Judas to betray him?  Pilate to kill him?  What are the real motivations that drive those questions?

Questions that we are fated to find definitive answers for?

Destiny calls.

LOST in Theology

This is the first in a series of posts on LOST in Theology based on the ever popular TV series that I just finished watching on Amazon Prime for the first time… I know, I know, I really don’t like theology, but that is the point really: to realize how lost in theologies we are when we forget to read the story.  It’s really about working through Biblical narrative, but everyone (esp. Schools of Theology) seems to conflate Bible and Theology.  Don’t get me started.

And I know I’m late to the party, but LOST is still in the public memory, and it was so popular that it works as a good case study for the way in which we interact with narratives, metanarratives, and cosmic themes like determinism, hermeneutics, apocalypticism, death, and redemption.  I plan to touch on each of these this week as I reflect on my first viewing of LOST.  You will get an insight into the boring mind of a Bible scholar who watches a famous TV show.  I hope you at least have a good laugh in my general direction.

LOST is a collection of stories that come together on the island bound by the beginnings and endings of serial episodes and seasons.  The Bible is a collection of stories, bound in book covers.  Each limited by its genre, they try to convince us of the value of certain themes in the lives of living humans, one for its market, and other to spread its truth.  I would love your comments and suggestions for future themes.  First up is LOST in Determinism.  Be ready.

Live together or die alone.

Friday’s Favorite 2/3/12

My favorite reading this week (although it’s from January 10th) goes to “A Thoreau Look at the Undead”

Look for a series called “LOST in Theology” soon, based on the popular TV series, relating to my work on Bultmann and Existential Hermeneutics.

I’m teaching the Formation of the Canon this weekend, so I’ll leave you with this quote from Athanasius in 367CE:

They have fabricated books which they call books of tables, in which they shew stars, to which they give the names of Saints. And therein of a truth they have inflicted on themselves a double reproach: those who have written such books, because they have perfected themselves in a lying and contemptible science; and as to the ignorant and simple, they have led them astray by evil thoughts concerning the right faith established in all truth and upright in the presence of God.

To you and Athanasius, I ask “Who says so?”

Cheers.

History is Relevant, Historicity Should Not Be:

A few thoughts on yesterday’s post concerning mythology and history…

I am perfectly willing to accept the possibility of the historicity of the Bible–that the Bible is historically accurate in its entirety.  This is efficient.  Yet, I doubt every Christian is willing to accept the possibility of the opposite–that the Bible is historically inaccurate.  If this is the case, I say that wanting the Bible to be historical does not make it historical, and such a faith claim is efficient and biased.  If, however, one can accept both possibilities, then we are left with two options.  First, we can weigh the evidence, and try to determine which parts are and which parts are not historical.  Much time and effort in and out of scholarship has been given to this task, and Bultmann critiques these efforts, since he claims there is not enough evidence to say either way.  The second option, then, is to disregard the historicity of the Bible.  Worry not about the historical actions of its characters.

Instead, know as well as one can about the history and culture surrounding the composition of the various Scriptures.  In this way, one contextualizes the language used to tell the stories, helping the modern reader access (and reproduce) the meaning.  This is of course, problematic, because the interpretation of history, even recent history, is known to be biased, and spun (Fox News, MSNBC).  But still, it is the best we have, and we make do what we have.  More later, but I just wanted to make the distinction clear on the relevance of history versus historicity.

Talk amongst yourselves…

Bultmannia: ‘Mythology’

(Slightly Wonkish)

“For the conception “Kingdom of God” is mythological, as is the conception of the eschatological drama. Just as mythological are the presuppositions of the expectation of the Kingdom of God, namely, the theory that the world, although created by God, is ruled by the devil, Satan, and that his army, the demons, is the cause of all evil, sin and disease. The whole conception of the world which is presupposed in the preaching of Jesus as in the New Testament generally is mythological; i.e., the conception of the world as being structured in three stories, heaven, earth and hell; the conception of the intervention of supernatural powers in the course of events; and the conception of miracles, especially the conception of the intervention of supernatural powers in the inner life of the soul, the conception that men can be tempted and corrupted by the devil and possessed by evil spirits. This conception of the world we call mythological because it is different from the conception of the world which has been formed and developed by science since its inception in ancient Greece and which has been accepted by all modern men.”– Jesus Christ and Mythology, 1958.

Let’s be frank.  To Christians, the term “mythological” is scary.  Bultmann caught a good deal of flak for this term, and he admitted it was not the best term, yet it was the best one available to him.  I imagine though, that even if there were a perfect term for Bultmann’s mythology, it would still be controversial among Christians. But keeping in mind that Bultmann did scholarship in service of the Church and is a giant in the field, I believe there is a great deal of value in Bultmann’s analysis.

The best place to start is in the first sentence above.  Bultmann does not say that the Kingdom of God is mythological, an ontological claim that it is not real, and simply part of an ancient narrative.  Rather, mythological refers to the conceptual framework of the ancient authors and audiences of the Bible, which is then juxtaposed to our modern “scientific” conceptual framework.  This is hard to grasp, but if one wants to criticize Bultmann, one must grasp this first, before all else.

Two remarks to conclude, and let us take the example of Jesus walking on water.  First, those, who want to claim that the historical Jesus actually walked on water in a modern scientific way, are interpreting outside of the ancient framework within which the stories were composed.  This does not mean that Jesus did not walk on water, for this question is irrelevant, especially to Bultmann. We will discuss more about history in the future.  And second, since stories with characters who walk on water were common in ancient literature, the most important question then beccomes (since we cannot easily enter into a mythological conception of the world), “Why does the story-teller include a story about Jesus walking on water?”

More Bultmannia soon!  Cheers.

The Wall Street Bible

I normally don’t post twice in a day, but this Wall Street Journal article “inspired” me.  Now, I have nothing positive or negative to say about modern day capitalism, unless of course we compare it with the oppressive argrarian societies of history, like feudalism.  For me, capitalism is a social tool to decentralize wealth and create incentives.  Fine.  It has its strengths and weaknesses, and I could probably list many of them, but we are not here for that.  We are here because Rabi Aryeh Spero has made a biblical argument for capitalism, and that just doesn’t sit right with me.

His biggest blunder is a common one, to pit capitalism against socialism.  It is an unfair dichotomy in the present Western World, and in America.  Most Western countries are a messy mix of both public and private sectors, and it is unlikely that such things will change soon.  What is really being argued over is the relationship and ratio between the two: How big should the public sector be? And how can the public sector be involved with the private?  Great questions, and the arguments need to be placed in concrete contexts, rather than abstract ideas.

While Spero has pointed out some of capitalisms strengths, his use of the Hebrew Bible (Christian Old Testament) takes quite a leap of faith between our cultures.

Because the Hebrew Bible sees us not simply as “workers” and members of the masses but, rather, as individuals, it heralds that characteristic which endows us with individuality: our creativity… At the opening bell, Genesis announces: “Man is created in the image of God”—in other words, like Him, with individuality and creative intelligence.

I’m going to give Spero the benefit of the doubt, since he may get this interpretation from some Rabbinic sources that I’m not aware of.  However, I’m still going to express my doubts over his interpretation, not only because of the Wall Street Journal, nor because of his “Caucus for America,” but because I doubt the Bible has much to say on Western individualism or capitalism.  One of the defining characteristics of an Individual-Oriented society is the emphasis placed on personal happiness and individual liberty.  These themes are severely lacking in the Hebrew Bible.  Rather, the Hebrew Bible is more concerned with political independence, critique of corrupt leadership, and social identity.  Also, the Hebrew people lived in an agrarian society, thus making a leap to modern economic systems require heavy exegesis–something Spero has not done at all here.

While, I am a Christian and focus on the New Testament, I still hold that even the Hebrew Bible cannot defend Capitalism or Socialism.  Rather, all we can really look for are the reasons that both Testaments critique their own agrarian societies.  And correct me if I’m wrong, but the strongest critiques are aimed at corrupt elites, who gain at the expense of the weak, the poor, and the marginalized.  So whatever economic system one supports, someone claiming the authority of either Testament ought to make sure that all economic systems prevent such exploitation.