In my last post I argued that Revelation 12 lies at the very center of the book, and that that central location commends it also as the crux of Revelation’s message. Furthermore, it was the recurrence of “three sevens” in the middle section of Revelation and another “three”—three “woes”—which pinpointed chapter 12 as the locus of meaning which draws together the threads of Revelation.
Immediately after the announcement that “the second woe has passed” and “the third woe is coming very soon” (11:14), John hears “loud voices in heaven, saying,”
“The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord , and of his Messiah, and he will reign forever and ever” (11:15).
A parallel announcement comes a few verses later, in 12:10:
“Then I heard a loud voice in heaven, proclaiming,
Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Messiah.”
The second announcement, quite obviously, is of one piece with the first, for both speak of the arrival of God’s reign which is likewise the rule of the Messiah. As one, therefore, the two statements act as a frame around yet more material. In this case, that material is the appearance to John of two “great signs (“portents” NRSV) in heaven” and the interaction of these signs.
The first sign is “a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars” (12:1). Moreover, the woman was “pregnant and was crying out in birth pangs, in the agony of giving birth” (12:2).
Immediately following is the second sign. John sees “a great red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns, and seven diadems on his heads” (12:3). Like the woman, stars also figure in John’s vision of the dragon, though in this case they are not part of a crown but those which the dragon sweeps down to earth with his tail (12:4). Though the dragon “swept down a third of the stars of heaven and threw them to earth”, the “twelve stars” in the crown of the woman were not among these.
Now comes the interaction of the two, the woman and the dragon.
“The dragon stood before the woman who was about to bear a child, so that he might devour her child as soon as it was born” (12:4).
The interaction of the dragon and the woman is one of enmity. The dragon crouches before the woman with his sights set on her offspring. As for her offspring, the woman “gave birth to a son, a male child, who is to shepherd all the nations with a rod of iron” (12:5).
Now that the child has been born, and is to rule the nations, one wonders how—for the presence of a large, red, seven-headed dragon hell-bent on the child’s destruction does not hold out much hope for a helpless baby’s survival. At that very moment, however, from the very claws of death, “her child was snatched away and taken to God and to his throne” (12:5). As for the woman, she also met with God’s provision: “And the woman fled into the wilderness, where she has a place prepared by God, so that there she can be nourished for one thousand two hundred sixty days” (12:6).
The woman’s having “a place prepared by God” is in direct contrast to the predicament of the dragon, described in the next scene. For with the outbreak of “war in heaven” between “Michael and his angels” and “the dragon and his angels”, the “great dragon and his angels” are found “no longer'” to have “any place in heaven” (12:8). Having “no place” in heaven by heaven’s decree, they are “cast down to earth” (12:9).
The expulsion of the dragon and his cohort from heaven to earth is cause for the earth’s lament—for the third “woe” of Revelation’s large middle section. “But woe to the earth and the sea,” cries the “loud voice in heaven”, “for the devil has come down to you with great wrath, because he knows that his time is short!” (12:12b).
Even though he has come down to earth with “great wrath”, however, the devil with “no place” is not allowed to harm the woman who “has a place prepared by God.” For now that the dragon was found powerless against her male child, he fixes his evil intent upon the woman—but to no avail. First, she “was given the two wings of the great eagle, so that she could fly from the serpent into the wilderness, to her place where she is nourished for a time, and times, and half a time” (12:14). When the dragon tried again, casting a flood of water from his mouth to drown the woman, “the earth came to the help of the woman; it opened its mouth and swallowed the river that the dragon had poured from his mouth” (12:16). Powerless, in succession, against the woman’s child and the woman herself, the dragon, “angry with the woman”, “went off to make war on the rest of her children, those who keep the commandments of God and hold the testimony of Jesus” (12:17).
The woman’s “other children”, as Revelation calls them, bear a remarkable similarity to the “comrades" (Greek: “brothers”) acclaimed a few verses earlier by the great voice in heaven. For just as the brothers “conquered [the dragon/serpent/devil/Satan/deceiver of the whole world] by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony,” so the woman’s “other children” “keep the commandments of God and hold the testimony of Jesus” (12:11, 17). Moreover, if the brothers “have conquered”, if their victory is already complete, then the woman’s other children will also conquer. As the dragon did not prevail against the comrades, so he will not conquer the children.
Why will the dragon not prevail against the woman’s children? It is for the same reason that he did not prevail against the woman and the son born to her. For the male child, taken to the very throne, into the very power of God, as “the Lamb that was slaughtered” has “ransomed for God from every tribe and language and people and nation . . . a kingdom and priests serving our God, and they will reign on earth” (Rev 5:9-10). The first “kingdom and priests serving God” on earth, was, of course, those whom God ransomed from slavery in Egypt—Israel his prized possession (Ex 19:5-6). This is the woman, she who wears the twelve-starred crown for the twelve sons of Jacob. This is she through whom came her deliverer, the Messiah who shepherds his people from every nation with a rod of iron against the adversary. This is she who has other children, those who, by virtue of their faith in her God and of his Messiah, have become God’s people. These children are the church, they who, like the faithful before them, “conquered by the word of their testimony” (12:11 compared with 12:17).
It is this church, a Jewish-Gentile body of Christ-followers in first-century Asia Minor, with which John shared his revelation of Jesus. This was the church which the dragon was persecuting, against which the dragon waged his war. That war undoubtedly shook their confidence, for otherwise it would not have been necessary for John to remind them that their Lamb “has conquered.” Nor would it have been necessary to urge them on, as John does, in the way of “the Lamb who was slain.” For indeed, it was not just the “word of their testimony” or “the testimony of Jesus”, or “the blood of the Lamb” or “keeping the commandments of God” which unites the children and the comrades. These actions of the whole people of God—“conquering by the blood of the Lamb”, “conquering by the word of their testimony”, “keeping the commandments of God”, and “holding to the testimony of Jesus”—are but four ways of saying what the voice in heaven proclaimed in one further description applied to the activity of the comrades.
“For they did not cling to life even in the face of death” (12:11b).
It is this elaboration of conquering by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony which is missing from the parallel statement applied to the woman’s other children a few verses later (12:11, 17). It was this—not clinging to life in the face of death—which was yet to be completed by the persecuted church to whom John wrote. Unlike their comrades, the children had not all yet “resisted to the point of shedding their blood” (Heb 12:4). Yet this was the ultimate test of obedience to God, and that which was needed to conquer as Jesus had conquered. Only the church which is willing “to lose its life in order to save it” is the faithful church (Mk 8:35). Only the church which takes up the cross, not as Rome to crucify its enemies, but as Jesus to love its enemies—even unto death—is the faithful church (Mk 8:34).
This, I submit, is the call buried deep within the heart of Revelation for God’s people. It is a call which entails suffering amidst the woes and suffering of our world, but it leads on to “the crown of life” (see Rev 2:10).
-Joe
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
sevens and threes
In my last post, I spoke of three characteristics of biblical apocalyptic literature with regard to the book of Daniel: dreams and visions; prophetic words (interpretation of dreams and visions); and exhortations for right living. The three categories are also present in Daniel's New Testament counterpart, the Revelation to John.
Just as the purpose of Nebuchadnezzar's dream (Dan 4) was to change the king's way of life, so Revelation's dreams and visions point toward specific acts of human faithfulness to God. Dreams lead to exhortations for right living. In fact, the very heart of Revelation, embedded in one of John's dramatic descriptions, is one such call to action. Before we can repeat that call, however, it is necessary to locate the heart of the book of Revelation.
Revelation, like other works of biblical literature, is built upon certain textual features which point to a central message. In biblical literature, meaning goes hand-in-hand with structure. That which is textually central is central in terms of message. John's primary purpose for conveying his dreams to others may be found at the literal center of the text of Revelation. In Revelation, that center may be found amidst Revelation's repetitions of the number 7.
Revelation features a long middle section (6:1-16:21), so marked because it encompasses three completed series of "sevens". The first "seven" begins in chapter 6, when "the Lamb that was slaughtered", first seen in chapter 5, begins to open the seven seals of the scroll which he was worthy to take from the hand of the one seated upon the throne. This is followed by a second series of "sevens"--seven angels blowing seven trumpets (8:2-11:19). Finally, seven plagues, or "bowls of God's wrath", are poured out upon the earth (15:1-16:21). This is the third "seven".
Of course, it should be noted that seven is a prime number in the Bible, ubiquitous and rich in meaning. God created the heavens and the earth in seven days. After seven sevens or forty-nine years, Israel enjoyed a Jubilee year--rest for the land, return of property to previous owners, release of slaves (Lev 25). If the seventh day of creation meant rest for God, so too the fullness of time after seven sevens for God's creation. Seven was synonymous with rest and freedom after the labor. At the Bible School last weekend, students pointed out other sevens.
Just as the purpose of Nebuchadnezzar's dream (Dan 4) was to change the king's way of life, so Revelation's dreams and visions point toward specific acts of human faithfulness to God. Dreams lead to exhortations for right living. In fact, the very heart of Revelation, embedded in one of John's dramatic descriptions, is one such call to action. Before we can repeat that call, however, it is necessary to locate the heart of the book of Revelation.
Revelation, like other works of biblical literature, is built upon certain textual features which point to a central message. In biblical literature, meaning goes hand-in-hand with structure. That which is textually central is central in terms of message. John's primary purpose for conveying his dreams to others may be found at the literal center of the text of Revelation. In Revelation, that center may be found amidst Revelation's repetitions of the number 7.
Revelation features a long middle section (6:1-16:21), so marked because it encompasses three completed series of "sevens". The first "seven" begins in chapter 6, when "the Lamb that was slaughtered", first seen in chapter 5, begins to open the seven seals of the scroll which he was worthy to take from the hand of the one seated upon the throne. This is followed by a second series of "sevens"--seven angels blowing seven trumpets (8:2-11:19). Finally, seven plagues, or "bowls of God's wrath", are poured out upon the earth (15:1-16:21). This is the third "seven".
Of course, it should be noted that seven is a prime number in the Bible, ubiquitous and rich in meaning. God created the heavens and the earth in seven days. After seven sevens or forty-nine years, Israel enjoyed a Jubilee year--rest for the land, return of property to previous owners, release of slaves (Lev 25). If the seventh day of creation meant rest for God, so too the fullness of time after seven sevens for God's creation. Seven was synonymous with rest and freedom after the labor. At the Bible School last weekend, students pointed out other sevens.
- Joseph's dreams, seven fat and skinny cows (fourteen in all) meaning seven years of plenty succeeded by seven years of scarcity, and seven ears of healthy and sickly grain, meaning the same (Gen 41).
- Naaman's washings in the River Jordan, cleansing him of his leprosy (2 Kgs 5).
- seven words of Jesus from the cross (which is, of course, a compilation from the four gospels). A service of the seven words is a tradition on Good Friday for many churches here.
As seven relates to the book of Daniel, we also pointed out two sevens from the stories we told. The fiery furnace into which were cast Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego as the price of their obedience to God, was heated "seven times" beyond normal. Yet beyond the sevenfold wrath of Nebuchadnezzar's oven, the three friends of Daniel came out unscathed (Dan 3). For failing to heed the prophecy of Daniel, Nebuchadnezzar was driven from human society until "seven times" should "pass over" him, after which he would learn of the sovereignty of God. Nebuchadnezzar's return to power, his exaltation as it were, did not come without a sevenfold humiliation (Dan 4).
All these sevens add up, not to some mathematical sum, but to a theological truth. In the fullness of time, after what will be has been, upon completion, after seven "days", creation is new.
But in the midst of those sevens, there is labor. In the heart of the sevens there is pain. In the belly of the sevens there is tumult. And so it is with Revelation.
Each of the three sevens in the heart of Revelation tells of suffering. If by some chance the reader could miss that suffering, the text underscores it with another sequence in the exact center of the three sevens. Amidst the middle seven, the seven trumpets, are "three woes" (8:13-9:12; 9:13-10:14; 12:12). They begin right where one might expect them to begin, after the fourth trumpet is blown, in the middle or second sequence of the three sevens (8:12-13). Within the three sevens, thus, is another three. Amidst the three sevens of suffering are three woes. And amidst the three woes, as one might expect--"let anyone with an ear to hear listen" (see the refrain of Rev 2-3)--is the central call of Revelation, the Word of God for his people.
That call may be found in Revelation 12, and that will be the subject of my next post.
-Joe
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
dreams, words, life
I taught on the apocalyptic literature of the Bible, the books of Daniel and Revelation, at Bethany Bible School last Saturday.
I enjoyed both my study of these texts in the weeks leading up to last weekend and the actual presentation and interaction with students around these books. For the sake of clarity and simplicity, I chose three main features of biblical apocalyptic literature (based on my own reading and re-reading of Daniel and Revelation).
1. Dreams and Visions
2. Prophetic Words
3. Exhortations for Right Living
The three are inter-related. Dreams and visions are the means by which God, sometimes through angels, communicates to human beings (e.g., Daniel, Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar, John of Patmos). Yet, because those dreams or visions usually are cryptic, those who receive them seek understanding through prophets. The prophets give words to the visions, that is, they provide interpretation. Finally, however, neither the dreams nor their interpretations are ends in themselves but calls to right living for the ones to whom they have been given. Thus, the prophet’s job is not only to interpret but to exhort, to urge on toward faithfulness.
One example may be drawn from Daniel 4. King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon has a dream of a large tree with its top in the heavens (one is reminded of the tower of Babel in Genesis 11). The tree is beautiful, its reach vast, its fruit abundant, its shade and its branches a shelter for many. This is the vision.
On the other hand, in spite of its beauty, its appearance is terrifying for the king, for he also hears a “holy watcher” command that the tree should be “cut down” (Dan 4:13ff). Nebuchadnezzar, as with his dream of a great statue in chapter 2, does not have words for his fear. And it is precisely those words which might bring relief. So Nebuchadnezzar calls upon Daniel for interpretation. Daniel tells him that the tree is not really a tree, but the king himself, his greatness and his sovereignty (4:22). As for the tree being cut down, Daniel tells Nebuchadnezzar that his kingdom will be taken from him “until [he has] learned that the Most High has sovereignty over the kingdom of mortals, and gives it to whom he will” (4:25). This is the interpretation, the prophetic words which explain the dream.
Finally, although Nebuchadnezzar’s fate is sealed—he will be driven from human society (4:25)—it is so only in the absence of Nebuchadnezzar’s own repentance. The decree of heaven for Nebuchadnezzar is fixed as Nebuchadnezzar is—not as Nebuchadnezzar might be. And because even now there is hope for Nebuchadnezzar, or at least to leave him without excuse, Daniel gives the word of exhortation.
“Atone for your sins with righteousness, and your iniquities with mercy to the oppressed, so that your prosperity may be prolonged” (4:27).
This is the call to right living. Of course, the king did not heed it, and had to find out the hard way that God is God over even Nebuchadnezzar’s realm (4:28ff.).
These categories may also be applied to the New Testament’s apocalyptic offering, Revelation, which will be the subject of my next post.
-Joe
I enjoyed both my study of these texts in the weeks leading up to last weekend and the actual presentation and interaction with students around these books. For the sake of clarity and simplicity, I chose three main features of biblical apocalyptic literature (based on my own reading and re-reading of Daniel and Revelation).
1. Dreams and Visions
2. Prophetic Words
3. Exhortations for Right Living
The three are inter-related. Dreams and visions are the means by which God, sometimes through angels, communicates to human beings (e.g., Daniel, Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar, John of Patmos). Yet, because those dreams or visions usually are cryptic, those who receive them seek understanding through prophets. The prophets give words to the visions, that is, they provide interpretation. Finally, however, neither the dreams nor their interpretations are ends in themselves but calls to right living for the ones to whom they have been given. Thus, the prophet’s job is not only to interpret but to exhort, to urge on toward faithfulness.
One example may be drawn from Daniel 4. King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon has a dream of a large tree with its top in the heavens (one is reminded of the tower of Babel in Genesis 11). The tree is beautiful, its reach vast, its fruit abundant, its shade and its branches a shelter for many. This is the vision.
On the other hand, in spite of its beauty, its appearance is terrifying for the king, for he also hears a “holy watcher” command that the tree should be “cut down” (Dan 4:13ff). Nebuchadnezzar, as with his dream of a great statue in chapter 2, does not have words for his fear. And it is precisely those words which might bring relief. So Nebuchadnezzar calls upon Daniel for interpretation. Daniel tells him that the tree is not really a tree, but the king himself, his greatness and his sovereignty (4:22). As for the tree being cut down, Daniel tells Nebuchadnezzar that his kingdom will be taken from him “until [he has] learned that the Most High has sovereignty over the kingdom of mortals, and gives it to whom he will” (4:25). This is the interpretation, the prophetic words which explain the dream.
Finally, although Nebuchadnezzar’s fate is sealed—he will be driven from human society (4:25)—it is so only in the absence of Nebuchadnezzar’s own repentance. The decree of heaven for Nebuchadnezzar is fixed as Nebuchadnezzar is—not as Nebuchadnezzar might be. And because even now there is hope for Nebuchadnezzar, or at least to leave him without excuse, Daniel gives the word of exhortation.
“Atone for your sins with righteousness, and your iniquities with mercy to the oppressed, so that your prosperity may be prolonged” (4:27).
This is the call to right living. Of course, the king did not heed it, and had to find out the hard way that God is God over even Nebuchadnezzar’s realm (4:28ff.).
These categories may also be applied to the New Testament’s apocalyptic offering, Revelation, which will be the subject of my next post.
-Joe
Friday, May 4, 2012
the seed of humility
Last Saturday I had the privilege of facilitating a discussion on church leadership for four Pentecostal pastors near the town of Cradock. Our primary text was the parable of the sower and the seed (Mark 4:3-9). In my own preparation for the session, I noted especially the description of the seed. The seed, which Jesus later tells the disciples is the word, "falls" to four environments. Three of those environments are not conducive to "bearing fruit" (4:7,8); the seed is eaten by birds in one; scorched by the sun in another; choked by thorns in a third. Only in a fourth does it find "good soil" in which it yields "thirty, sixty, a hundredfold" (4:8). Yet whether to the good or to the bad, the seed "fell". I suggested that the "falling" of the word described the life of Jesus himself, the Word of God which came down from heaven to dwell among mortals. Such a falling was a "humbling", an obedience to the love of God even to death on the cross (Php 2:8). As the seed was eaten, burned, and choked, so the Son was crucified. And just as Jesus humbled himself, so leaders in the church are called to humble themselves whether the environment is "favorable or unfavorable" (2 Tim 4:2).
In response, one pastor shared a story from his work in the correctional services of South Africa (most pastors we know are bi-vocational). He said that he was talking to an inmate who said that you "can't be soft or people are just going to walk right over you." The pastor then shared with us that, while he was contemplating this inmate's advice, "I remembered what it says in the Bible, that 'he was led like a sheep to the slaughter', that he did not even 'open his mouth'" (see Isa 53:7; Acts 8:32). The pastor believes that this is the way for leaders in the way of Jesus.
It is important to acknowledge the predicament of people suffering injustice and those whose vulnerability is exposed in a place like prison. It is important to remember that calls to bear abuse without a word can sound like an affirmation of injustice in the ears of those who bear the brunt of that injustice. It is also important to remember, however, that if leaders did abide by the humility of Jesus, our world would not suffer the injustice it now does. In spite of its circumstances, the world needs disciples who will take up the cross after Jesus, whose lives will point the world back to the self-giving love for which it was created.
-Joe
In response, one pastor shared a story from his work in the correctional services of South Africa (most pastors we know are bi-vocational). He said that he was talking to an inmate who said that you "can't be soft or people are just going to walk right over you." The pastor then shared with us that, while he was contemplating this inmate's advice, "I remembered what it says in the Bible, that 'he was led like a sheep to the slaughter', that he did not even 'open his mouth'" (see Isa 53:7; Acts 8:32). The pastor believes that this is the way for leaders in the way of Jesus.
It is important to acknowledge the predicament of people suffering injustice and those whose vulnerability is exposed in a place like prison. It is important to remember that calls to bear abuse without a word can sound like an affirmation of injustice in the ears of those who bear the brunt of that injustice. It is also important to remember, however, that if leaders did abide by the humility of Jesus, our world would not suffer the injustice it now does. In spite of its circumstances, the world needs disciples who will take up the cross after Jesus, whose lives will point the world back to the self-giving love for which it was created.
-Joe
Friday, April 13, 2012
occupational hazards
In the category of texts which my African friends are more likely to know than I know, I submit 2 Kings 7.
On Sunday over lunch, one man in the church applied this text to a humorous situation on the church grounds that day. One particularly zealous young man took it upon himself to act as a security guard at the gate, not allowing anyone who hadn’t eaten to exit the property (He had heard someone remark that no one should leave without eating). Another young man who had been eating near me, upon finishing, had gotten up to leave. Within a minute or two he had returned, informing the pastor that the gatekeeper would not allow him through. Apparently the security guard did not believe that the other young man had actually had his meal.
Chuckling upon hearing the news, another man arose to take care of the situation. He returned with a report of what he had said to convince the guard to let the man pass. He told him the story of 2 Kings 7. When the pastor narrated the story to me, I could never recall having heard it before. Yet immediately it had come to this man, so apparently versed in the books of 1 and 2 Kings is he (I have noticed a preoccupation with these books before among African Pentecostals).
So what is the story? A certain captain of the Israelite king had expressed doubt during a time of siege and ensuing famine that food could be sold in the city of Samaria on the next day as predicted by the prophet Elisha. In response, Elisha told the captain that the captain would “see it with [his] own eyes, but [he] shall not eat from it” (2 Kgs 7:2). After the Lord caused the besieging Aramean army to quickly abandon the city, the people of Samaria went out to plunder the Aramean camp, bringing back with them the provisions the Arameans had left behind. And so, on the next day, according to the word of Elisha, food was again sold in the city. And, also according to the prophet’s word, the captain saw but did not eat the food. For as he was the one whom the king had appointed to “have charge of the gate”, he was trampled by the people as they flooded into the city with the plunder—and died there “in the gate” (2 Kgs 7:17).
Just as the stubbornness (refusal to heed the prophet) of this “security guard” had led to his demise, so his counterpart in the form of a resolute young churchgoer was being warned to let the people pass. I am happy to report that no similar fate befell him.
-Joe
On Sunday over lunch, one man in the church applied this text to a humorous situation on the church grounds that day. One particularly zealous young man took it upon himself to act as a security guard at the gate, not allowing anyone who hadn’t eaten to exit the property (He had heard someone remark that no one should leave without eating). Another young man who had been eating near me, upon finishing, had gotten up to leave. Within a minute or two he had returned, informing the pastor that the gatekeeper would not allow him through. Apparently the security guard did not believe that the other young man had actually had his meal.
Chuckling upon hearing the news, another man arose to take care of the situation. He returned with a report of what he had said to convince the guard to let the man pass. He told him the story of 2 Kings 7. When the pastor narrated the story to me, I could never recall having heard it before. Yet immediately it had come to this man, so apparently versed in the books of 1 and 2 Kings is he (I have noticed a preoccupation with these books before among African Pentecostals).
So what is the story? A certain captain of the Israelite king had expressed doubt during a time of siege and ensuing famine that food could be sold in the city of Samaria on the next day as predicted by the prophet Elisha. In response, Elisha told the captain that the captain would “see it with [his] own eyes, but [he] shall not eat from it” (2 Kgs 7:2). After the Lord caused the besieging Aramean army to quickly abandon the city, the people of Samaria went out to plunder the Aramean camp, bringing back with them the provisions the Arameans had left behind. And so, on the next day, according to the word of Elisha, food was again sold in the city. And, also according to the prophet’s word, the captain saw but did not eat the food. For as he was the one whom the king had appointed to “have charge of the gate”, he was trampled by the people as they flooded into the city with the plunder—and died there “in the gate” (2 Kgs 7:17).
Just as the stubbornness (refusal to heed the prophet) of this “security guard” had led to his demise, so his counterpart in the form of a resolute young churchgoer was being warned to let the people pass. I am happy to report that no similar fate befell him.
-Joe
Thursday, April 12, 2012
warriors and women
In giving a word of encouragement before handing over to me to preach last Sunday, the pastor made a correlation between four women in the congregation and two other sets of people in the Bible. The day before, I had preached on Mark 15, so that chapter was on the pastor’s mind. In particular, his attention was fixed on verse 40 which tells of three women “looking on” at the death of Jesus. These were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome. This was the first set of biblical people to whom the pastor compared the four mothers in his church. To these he added “the Three” warriors of David’s army—Josheb-basshebeth a Tahchemonite, Eleazar son of Dodo son of Ahohi, and Shammah son of Agee, the Hararite—whom David extolls in his “last words” from 2 Samuel 23 (2 Sam 23:8ff.).
The pastor’s point was that, just as Jesus had been attended by three women, and David by three warriors, so these four churchwomen in particular had steadfastly stood beside him in the ministry. Comparing members of the body of Christ to warriors always raises my Mennonite (pacifist) eyebrows. Yet the fact that these mothers could in no way be mistaken for soldiers of the flesh in the mode of David’s fighting men hinted at a beautiful transformation of the warrior-motif in the pastor’s interpretation. What the pastor has in mind as the epitome of warrior-hood is not, in fact, those who fight—as did David’s men—with physical weapons, but those praying mothers who prepared a great feast for God’s people on Easter Sunday. By using the biblical examples to point to the flesh-and-blood women in his church, the pastor cast the text in a new light. For if these women count for genuine warriors in the pastor’s eyes, is another meaning of warrior-hood likewise intended beneath the surface of the text? Must a text like 2 Samuel 23:8 be read to affirm acts of physical war, or does it rather commend that which both soldiers and “ordinary” women may have in common, namely, the dedication in giving one’s life to something greater than oneself? Put another way, is what the text might commend not the cause for which one fights, but the manner in which one fights? Indeed, I would argue that it is not the cause which unites soldiers and members of the church, for intrinsic to the calling of the former is protecting a geographic domain while the latter serves the kingdom of God (insofar as the latter does not conflate the two). Rather, it is only to certain virtues which both soldiers and Christians might subscribe, and it is the calling of the Christian to know in whose service alone and how such virtues may be exercised.
The pastor’s way of reading scripture exhibited here I have encountered more broadly in these years of my African sojourn. Indeed, I have often heard African preachers draw lessons for life from texts which do not seem to have an overlap in the literal sense to the real-life situations which the texts are used to address. Thus one might find an African preacher using a battle text as a metaphor for perseverance or trusting in God when encouraging a person struggling with an illness. By contrast, a western preacher might seek out a more literal correspondence between the text and life, so that when addressing a situation of disease one looks to texts of physical healing in the scriptures. If it is thus fair to say that, in this sense, an African way of reading scripture is more metaphorical than a western one (undoubtedly it could also be more literal in other ways), then I as a North American have learned a lot from African ways of reading. And if other western readers are like me, then this African approach can help us to hear more of the Bible speaking to our lives. The pastor’s example above, for example, helps us to see the way in which Old Testament texts have meaning beyond justifying war and promoting a wrathful God—complaints I have frequently heard among North American Mennonites (and others).
I am persuaded that a closer examination of most biblical texts uncovers, in surprising ways, the voice of God speaking to the people whom God loves.
-Joe
The pastor’s point was that, just as Jesus had been attended by three women, and David by three warriors, so these four churchwomen in particular had steadfastly stood beside him in the ministry. Comparing members of the body of Christ to warriors always raises my Mennonite (pacifist) eyebrows. Yet the fact that these mothers could in no way be mistaken for soldiers of the flesh in the mode of David’s fighting men hinted at a beautiful transformation of the warrior-motif in the pastor’s interpretation. What the pastor has in mind as the epitome of warrior-hood is not, in fact, those who fight—as did David’s men—with physical weapons, but those praying mothers who prepared a great feast for God’s people on Easter Sunday. By using the biblical examples to point to the flesh-and-blood women in his church, the pastor cast the text in a new light. For if these women count for genuine warriors in the pastor’s eyes, is another meaning of warrior-hood likewise intended beneath the surface of the text? Must a text like 2 Samuel 23:8 be read to affirm acts of physical war, or does it rather commend that which both soldiers and “ordinary” women may have in common, namely, the dedication in giving one’s life to something greater than oneself? Put another way, is what the text might commend not the cause for which one fights, but the manner in which one fights? Indeed, I would argue that it is not the cause which unites soldiers and members of the church, for intrinsic to the calling of the former is protecting a geographic domain while the latter serves the kingdom of God (insofar as the latter does not conflate the two). Rather, it is only to certain virtues which both soldiers and Christians might subscribe, and it is the calling of the Christian to know in whose service alone and how such virtues may be exercised.
The pastor’s way of reading scripture exhibited here I have encountered more broadly in these years of my African sojourn. Indeed, I have often heard African preachers draw lessons for life from texts which do not seem to have an overlap in the literal sense to the real-life situations which the texts are used to address. Thus one might find an African preacher using a battle text as a metaphor for perseverance or trusting in God when encouraging a person struggling with an illness. By contrast, a western preacher might seek out a more literal correspondence between the text and life, so that when addressing a situation of disease one looks to texts of physical healing in the scriptures. If it is thus fair to say that, in this sense, an African way of reading scripture is more metaphorical than a western one (undoubtedly it could also be more literal in other ways), then I as a North American have learned a lot from African ways of reading. And if other western readers are like me, then this African approach can help us to hear more of the Bible speaking to our lives. The pastor’s example above, for example, helps us to see the way in which Old Testament texts have meaning beyond justifying war and promoting a wrathful God—complaints I have frequently heard among North American Mennonites (and others).
I am persuaded that a closer examination of most biblical texts uncovers, in surprising ways, the voice of God speaking to the people whom God loves.
-Joe
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
breaking from the tomb
In between Mark’s crucifixion narrative (15:25-39, see last post) and his resurrection narrative (16:1-8) is the burial of Jesus. Chapter 15 ends with the notice that “Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where the body was laid” (15:47). This is the perfect set-up for the events of chapter 16.
Seeing where the body was laid, these two women along with a third, Salome, “brought spices so that they might go and anoint him” (16:1). Spices in hand, they head for the tomb. The resurrection narrative in Mark centers around the tomb. The women set out to go there (v. 2). Later they enter there (v. 5). Finally, they flee from the tomb (v. 8). The tomb receives one extra mention, this time in the mouths of the women themselves rather than from the narrator. As they approach they ask themselves, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb” (v. 3). Presumably this question was occasioned because the stone was “very large” (v. 4). Nevertheless, looking up, they find that the stone “had already been rolled back” (v. 4). And so they are able to enter the tomb.
It is in the tomb that the central drama of the story takes place. It is in the tomb that the women see the messenger of Jesus’ resurrection (v. 5), hear the announcement of Jesus’ resurrection (v. 6), and receive instructions of what to do next (v. 7). All of this happens in the tomb.
But none of this were the women seeking in the tomb. Though we must credit them—perhaps especially in comparison to the twelve disciples of Jesus—for looking on at the cross (15:40), we cannot say that their faith was complete. The women, like the disciples, had not taken Jesus at his word. Presumably they too, with the twelve, had heard him predict his death and resurrection. Witnesses to Jesus’ authority in life, the women might have trusted, even now, that what Jesus said would be fulfilled in him would come to pass. Yet they set out with spices “to anoint him”; they are not seeking a risen Lord or a living God in this moment. They are seeking a corpse. It is a dead man which they seek. That is the most for which they can hope. A body is what they have come seeking in this place. For a dead man they have entered here.
It is precisely in that place, however, in the tomb of their hope which was not a hope, that they hear something which they did not expect.
“Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him” (v. 6).
If the women’s best hope was hopelessness, their best faith an instinctual sense of duty, their present state a dulling numb, then it was not by their merit that they received the news spoken by the young man robed in white (v. 5). By the mercy of God they hear, “He has been raised.” They were hoping for a corpse; they received a revelation of the living God.
It is well-known that Mark, aside from the disputed endings to his gospel (16:9-20), narrates no resurrection appearances of Jesus to his followers. Likewise it is customary in certain circles, perhaps for shock value, for preachers to point out that the women in Mark flee from the news in terror, saying nothing to anyone (v. 8). Full stop. End of story. I’m not sure what all that emphasis is for; given the subsequent widespread belief in the resurrection, good logic suggests that he both appeared to the women (as the other gospels attest) and that they did overcome their fear and tell his disciples, from which the witness spread. Yet if Mark’s focus on the women’s fear, not unrelated to the way in which Mark characterizes disciples generally in his gospel as dull and often disobedient, awakens our senses to the reality of God’s love and grace breaking through, then his ending is well-played indeed.
-Joe
Seeing where the body was laid, these two women along with a third, Salome, “brought spices so that they might go and anoint him” (16:1). Spices in hand, they head for the tomb. The resurrection narrative in Mark centers around the tomb. The women set out to go there (v. 2). Later they enter there (v. 5). Finally, they flee from the tomb (v. 8). The tomb receives one extra mention, this time in the mouths of the women themselves rather than from the narrator. As they approach they ask themselves, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb” (v. 3). Presumably this question was occasioned because the stone was “very large” (v. 4). Nevertheless, looking up, they find that the stone “had already been rolled back” (v. 4). And so they are able to enter the tomb.
It is in the tomb that the central drama of the story takes place. It is in the tomb that the women see the messenger of Jesus’ resurrection (v. 5), hear the announcement of Jesus’ resurrection (v. 6), and receive instructions of what to do next (v. 7). All of this happens in the tomb.
But none of this were the women seeking in the tomb. Though we must credit them—perhaps especially in comparison to the twelve disciples of Jesus—for looking on at the cross (15:40), we cannot say that their faith was complete. The women, like the disciples, had not taken Jesus at his word. Presumably they too, with the twelve, had heard him predict his death and resurrection. Witnesses to Jesus’ authority in life, the women might have trusted, even now, that what Jesus said would be fulfilled in him would come to pass. Yet they set out with spices “to anoint him”; they are not seeking a risen Lord or a living God in this moment. They are seeking a corpse. It is a dead man which they seek. That is the most for which they can hope. A body is what they have come seeking in this place. For a dead man they have entered here.
It is precisely in that place, however, in the tomb of their hope which was not a hope, that they hear something which they did not expect.
“Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him” (v. 6).
If the women’s best hope was hopelessness, their best faith an instinctual sense of duty, their present state a dulling numb, then it was not by their merit that they received the news spoken by the young man robed in white (v. 5). By the mercy of God they hear, “He has been raised.” They were hoping for a corpse; they received a revelation of the living God.
It is well-known that Mark, aside from the disputed endings to his gospel (16:9-20), narrates no resurrection appearances of Jesus to his followers. Likewise it is customary in certain circles, perhaps for shock value, for preachers to point out that the women in Mark flee from the news in terror, saying nothing to anyone (v. 8). Full stop. End of story. I’m not sure what all that emphasis is for; given the subsequent widespread belief in the resurrection, good logic suggests that he both appeared to the women (as the other gospels attest) and that they did overcome their fear and tell his disciples, from which the witness spread. Yet if Mark’s focus on the women’s fear, not unrelated to the way in which Mark characterizes disciples generally in his gospel as dull and often disobedient, awakens our senses to the reality of God’s love and grace breaking through, then his ending is well-played indeed.
-Joe
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