My article, “A Resurrection that Matters” is now online at Christianity Today.
I’d love to have a substantive discussion of the article ensue in the comments. See you there!
Archaeologists Find Galatian Praise Song
Some breaking news in the world of biblical archaeology will forever change how we read the book of Galatians.
First, this find near the southern-coast of Turkey will forever solve the North v. South Galatians controversy in favor of the latter.
More importantly, though, we now seem to have a rare, definitive answer to the question, “What provoked Paul’s letter?”, an answer not dependent on mirror-reading the letter itself.
If substantiated, this might also be our most significant insight into the worship of the early church, how their present experiences were affecting their hymnody.
The find seems to be an early praise song. A translation is below. As I see it, we now know what happened in Galatia: when Timothy went to tell the Galatians how to participate in the collection for Jerusalem, he arrived at the worship gathering in time to hear this song being sung. The rest, of course, is history.
The Heart of Worship (music here)
When it’s been some days
And Paul has gone away
And the new guys come
Telling us that God
Wants all these Jewish works
That’ll keep us clean
We’ll bring much more than just faith
Because our faith in itself
Is not what You have desired
You’re not just looking within
You also want our foreskin–
We can be Abraham’s child!
We’re coming back to the heart of worship
And it’s all about Jews
It’s all about Jews for Jesus
We’re sorry Lord for uncircumcision
When it’s all about Jews
It’s all about Jews for Jesus (2x)
Christology of the Gospels Debate (2): Pass them By
Note: This is part two in a series of debates on the Christology of the Synoptic Gospels (part 1 here). Rodrigo Morales is starting off, I’m responding, and he is then given the opportunity of a rejoinder.
RJM:
I’m shamelessly stealing my second example from our esteemed Doktorvater Richard Hays. Hays notices a peculiar detail in Mark’s account of Jesus’ walking on the water (Mark 6:45-52). As Jesus comes towards the boat,
Mark writes, “And he meant to pass them by” (6:48b). What an odd description – why would Jesus pass them by? Hays suggests that Mark uses this language to show subtly and allusively an important aspect of Jesus’ identity.
Three different passages in the Old Testament describe God in the act of “passing by” someone. In Exodus 33, when Moses asks to see God’s glory, God hides him in the cleft of a rock while “[God’s] glory passes by” (Exod 33:22). Similarly, in 1 Kings 19 when Elijah meets the LORD on Mount Horeb, the writer notes, “The LORD passed by” (1 Kings 19:11). Both of these stories recount theophanies, revelations of God to the prophets. In a similar way, the walking on the water in Mark functions as a theophany, especially when one takes into account the language from Job that overlaps with the story.
In Job 9, Job gives a lengthy description of God that includes some interesting phrases: “who [God] alone stretched out the heavens, and trampled the waves of the sea” (Job 9:8). The LXX of Job is even closer to Mark’s language of walking on the water. Shortly thereafter, Job continues, “Lo, he passes by me, and I see him not; he moves on, but I do not perceive him.” This language of walking on the water, passing by, and lack of understanding dovetails perfectly with Mark’s account. Mark is presenting Jesus as the manifestation of God, and his disciples in the role of uncomprehending Job.
JRDK:
There are a couple of contextual clues for interpreting that enigmatic statement about Jesus intending to pass by the disciples. First, in 6:52, the reason the disciples don’t get it, and presumably thus the reason why Jesus was not able to pass by them, is that “they didn’t understand about the loaves, but their heart was hardened” (6:52). This means that our interpretation of the feeding narrative must inform our reading of the water-walking.
Second, there is a near repeat of this episode in ch. 8. After feeding the 4,000 the disciples forget to take bread as they head off in a boat. When Jesus tells them to beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and Herod, they start wondering if it’s because they’d forgotten bread. Jesus asks if their heart has been hardened, if they, having eyes, are blind, if they, having ears, are deaf. Then he asks them to remember about how many baskets of leftover bread they had at each feeding.
I would argue that this series of failures by the disciples is tied to their lack of understanding of Jesus’ identity /vocation as Messiah. But rather than showing us by hints and allusions that Jesus is God, I see Mark showing us that Jesus is (1) the unique representative of God on earth, with power to rule the entire created order on God’s behalf, and (2) the Messiah who comes into his kingdom by suffering.
The ch. 8 rebuke is tied to the story of the healing of the blind man in two stages; this, in turn, is connected to Peter’s simultaneously correct and tragically misguided notion of Jesus as Messiah. Jesus, as Messiah, is going to have to die. As I argued last time, this is about Messianic vocation, something quite different from Jesus’ divinity (or lack thereof). The “leaven of the Pharisees and Herod” might refer to any number of wrong ways to conceptualize the kingdom of God, but “God as king of the kingdom” doesn’t seem to be one of them.
Back to Mark 6 itself, Mark invites us to read the feeding and water-walking as a description of Jesus as the shepherd of Israel (6:34–they were like sheep without a shepherd, so he began to teach them many things). If there is an extended OT allusion, I’d argue that it is to Psalm 23, where the shepherd ensures that the people do not want, makes them to lie down in green pastures (6:39) and, in the LXX, leads upon (epi) still waters. Jesus, I would argue, was going to pass them by not to reveal God but to lead them as faithful shepherd. They should have known he was such a shepherd from the loaves.
On the one hand, if the OT is determinative for the content of the NT allusion, one can say that “The Lord is my shepherd” = YHWH = Jesus. Or, as we see often in other parts of the NT, the narrative of the OT might be given new substance with the person and presence of Jesus. Not only is the LORD the shepherd of the flock, but the good king is a faithful shepherd, caring for the flock of God as God Himself would.
RJM:
I agree that the walking on the water and the feeding of the 5,000 go together, and I’m happy to connect it with Psalm 23. Daniel’s reading of Mark’s allusion to the psalm, however, seems like a classic case of special pleading to me. I think the interpretation “The Lord is my shepherd” = YHWH = Jesus is the most natural one, and strengthens my interpretation of the Isaiah citation at the beginning of the Gospel. (There is another OT text that would suit Daniel’s interpretation much better and fits quite well with the reference to the people as “sheep without a shepherd” [let the reader understand], but I’m not going to give it away. 
In my initial post for lack of space I left out an important element of the walking on the water story that I think seals an interpretation in terms of divine identity. When the disciples see Jesus coming to them on the water, they become terrified (a typical Markan theme) and think that he’s a ghost. Jesus reassures them with the words, “ἐγώ εἰμι.” One could translate this flatly as a simple, “It’s me.” Given the other allusions to the theophanies of the OT, however, it seems much more likely that Mark has Jesus appropriate the divine name from Exodus 3:14, “I AM.” The combination of walking on the water, intending to pass by the disciples, and appropriating the divine name all point in the direction of an identification on Mark’s part of Jesus with the God of Israel.
Again, this is not to deny the importance of Jesus’ humanity or his suffering – these are clearly important to Mark. Nevertheless, I believe this reading of the walking on the water adds a further dimension to Jesus’ already mysterious identity in this cryptic gospel.
Now to you: what’s your take, o dutiful reader of the Gospels?
Bruce Waltke: Evolution or Cult?
In case you missed it on BioLogos, here’s Bruce Waltke on Evolution. If we deny it when the evidence tells us it’s true, we make ourselves a cult. That’s how he leads off. Enjoy.
Positive Identity Needed: Neff Nails It
In an editorial piece for Christianity Today, David Neff nails the challenges facing conservative break-away groups: how to create a positive identity after having one’s identity defined by not being in step with the mainline denomination for so long.
The easiest thing to do in such a scenario is to continually distance oneself from what defines the other: they ordain homosexuals? We’re not that. They went down that slippery slope by allowing ordination to divorced people? We won’t do that. They started on the path when they ordained women? We won’t do that.
I’ve seen precisely that stream of argument play out in at least one break-away group over the past 7 years. Let’s hope that these more recent examples can do better.
(I am aware that this works both ways. Much of the Emergent world can be seen as post-conservatives and/or post-evangelicals having the equal and opposite reaction, fleeing conservatism to the extent that they throw out the good with the bad. Not that I ever have this struggle, of course….)
SBL Atlanta
In keeping with the trend around the blogesphere (I’m always trying to stay trendy, you know), I figured I’d let you know what I’ll be doing at SBL in Atlanta.
I’ll be reading a paper (at the same session as James McGrath or was that in a specific Matthew session?) in the Intertextuality in the New Testament Consultation. My paper is entitled, “Toward a Theory of Narrative Transformation: The Importance of First Context in Paul’s Scriptural Citations.” Actually, if it makes any difference to whether or not you come, I promise that I won’t be “reading” my paper (=boring), but rather giving a presentation (=marginally less boring). At any rate, here’s the abstract:
A perennial question when adjudicating the significance of intertextuality in the NT is the extent to which the original context of the quoted passage should influence our understanding of its NT usage. This paper provides some preliminary building blocks for constructing a theory of “narrative transformation” in Paul’s citations of scripture.
This model suggests that a full understanding of Paul’s hermeneutical method requires the reader to take stock of the narrative dynamics within which the OT passage originally found its coherence. However, this attention to first context provides the reader not with a meaning that Paul imports into his text, but with a story that he transforms by bringing it to bear on his work as an apostle of a crucified and resurrected messiah.
This paper will make a preliminary case for a model of narrative transformation by examining Paul’s citation of Isa 59:20 in Rom 11:26 and of Ps 68:10 in Rom 15:3. In the former case, attention to the original narrative movement, in conjunction with Paul’s alteration of the text and his broader argument in Romans 11, will show the power of the theory to provide an interpretation that clarifies the meaning of a perennially challenging text. With this in place, the second investigation will highlight the potential for a theory of narrative transformation to open up possibilities for fresh, even provocative understandings of Paul’s theology by bringing the narrative of the psalm more fully into conversation with the situation in Rome.
By investigating the importance of “narrative dynamics” in two scriptural passages that are not narrative in genre, the paper hopes to underscore the broadly applicable nature of “narrative transformation,” and its importance even for interpreting passages that might not, at first glance, seem amenable to such an approach.
I will also be participating in a panel discussion entitled, “From Dissertation to Publication: Advice from Editors and Authors.”
Palm Sunday
Blogesphere Confessional: Palm Sunday creeps me out.
Don’t get me wrong, I know that the whole thing has a lot going for it. In the Gospels, Jesus orchestrates the whole thing, sends in the disciples for the donkey, arranges his royal entry, and depending on which gospel you’re reading even rebukes the would-be-rebukers.
So what’s the problem?
I’m not so sure about the crowds and their cry. This seems to be one of those quintessential moments of dramatic irony that Mark is so skillful with. The people are praising Jesus as the coming king, but nobody has been able to hear what kind of kingdom Jesus has come to establish.
I am all for enacting the stories of the gospel, especially as they are moments that should deeply inform our own sense of self-understanding. But I wonder how profitable it is to place ourselves into this moment of dramatic irony, where the people whose voice and march we emulate really didn’t know what they were saying.
Do we realize this as we process into our churches waving our own palm branches?
Do we remember that the next thing Jesus did after “triumphantly entering” Jerusalem was to turn around and go to bed?
More later, perhaps. I need to go cut a branch off our palm tree…
(picture credit: http://jesusmafa.com)
Being What You’ve Received
What does it mean to act Christianly and how do we know when we’re doing it?
Ruminations on that question sparked thoughts on James earlier this week. When I read that letter I get the overwhelming sense that it is telling us to do all the right things, but I still find myself discontent with the ways and reasons it tells us to do them. Maybe it’s the “how do you know this is the right thing” part that stays too much beneath the surface for my liking?
Isa 28:11-12 reads like this: “With stammering lips and a foreign tongue God will speak to this people, he who said to this people, “Here is rest, give rest to the weary,” And “Here is repose,” but they wouldn’t listen.
This dynamic expressed here is perfect: you know what you are supposed to do because you’ve heard the story of what God has done for you. Your job is to represent the reign of God to the earth–so go and extend the rest that God gave you.
Are you a forgiven people? Go extend forgiveness.
Are you a freed people? Go extend freedom.
Are you an accepted outcast? Go extend acceptance to the outcast.
I want to press more and more for exhortations that are tied to our story, faithful outworkings of the narrative (Richard Hays) or drama (Sam Wells) that not only tells how God has acted in Christ, but into which we are wrapped and given parts to play.
So when I read through my student essays that wrestle with the uses of household codes in the NT, I love to see them working out what it means to be faithful to the gospel, and how people have been faithless to our defining narrative, by the ways the church understands relationships of power, relationships of gender, relationships defined by race.
This could go on and on. The point, sparked by those two verses in Isaiah 28:11-12 is that we too often go too far afield in getting all creative about what makes us how we are. Our foundational story gives us the identity that is to propel us out into the world, and cement us as a building being built up in one another.
As… so…
As you have received from God, so be and give to one another and the world around you.
Worship and the Conversion of the Imagination
I picked up Samuel Wells’ Improvisation: The Drama of Christian Ethics for a spell this evening. He has great things to say about worship transforming the worshiper.
Worship is the time when the conventional rules of the fallen world are suspended, when God is at last addressed as Lord, when time and heart and voice and posture are directed toward knowing God and making him known, toward experiencing the glorious liberty of being his child, when need and expectation are focused on their true source, when all desires are known and no secrets are hid, when attention moves from what is to what might yet be. (82)
The next several pages walk through various aspects of worship. I found his section on listening to scripture to be particularly compelling:
When Christians listen for God’s word in Scripture, they learn to listen for God’s word in every conversation. They develop the skill of storytelling, of finding their place and role in the story, of recognizing beginnings and endings, of seeing the author at work; and also the sill of listening, of realizing how much there is to discover, of fitting their small story into the larger story of God. (82)
“Fitting their small story into the larger story of God.” Exactly.
As I was reading and copying this in, I couldn’t help but hear the difference between Wells’ “listen for God’s word in Scripture” and what many from my world would prefer: “listen to God’s word in scripture”. I wonder how that posture of listening for God to speak afresh, rather than a more past-focused listening to how God has spoken once for all, might itself conduce toward the posture of listening for the truth and finding one’s place in the story that he goes on to articulate. Can you have the latter without the former? If so, will they be more independent of each other?
Driving Christ and Reading James
Luther fan that I am, I have a huge soft-spot in my heart for the whole idea of the NT promoting Christ. You know, the whole life death and resurrection of Jesus thing? I tend to think that stuff is pretty important in defining Christianity and setting the trajectories for faithful Christian action. The idea that Christianity is inherently “cruciform,” in both message and life, is something I have tremendous sympathy for.
This has me wondering: how should we teach or preach James in an ecclesiastical context?
As is well known, the book is almost entirely devoid of overt references to Jesus (it contains two clear ones). Folks have often pointed out that the book seems to echo a tremendous amount of Jesus’ teaching, especially from the Sermon on the Mount.
But the huge difference between the Sermon and James is that the Sermon is ultimately about Jesus and Jesus’ authority as God’s messenger. In James, this is nowhere to be found.
So here’s the question: Should we Christianize James when we teach it in settings of Christian instruction and/or worship? That is, should we intentionally provide additional frames of reference that the book itself does not have so that it becomes a clear participant in the Christian story rather than book of more or less generic “wisdom” and “instruction”?
For me, I would definitely do this if teaching on the Old Testament in such a venue. I’m curious what other people think about Christ-izing part of the New?
My Books
