Ramblings on Music and Worship

Now for my church write-up!  I attend church every Sunday, and, each week, I write a post about something that I got out of the service.

Warning: scattered ramblings ahead!

At church last week, the pastor in his sermon was talking about how he and his wife were watching The Voice on TV.  On that show, a woman was singing on stage, and the people in the audience were waving their hands.  Some were closing their eyes and enjoying the music.  That reminded the pastor of church.

The pastor was drawing some conclusions from this.  One question he asked was why people cannot be as excited about God, as they are about a singer who does not even know them!  The pastor made clear that he does not want us to wave our hands in worship just to please him, but he asked us to consider his question.

That got me thinking about music.  Here are some thoughts:

A.  I do not think that The Voice was counterfeiting the church.  Rather, I think that music is a powerful force, and that is why it has been incorporated into worship throughout history.

This is not an absolute statement, for some biblical scholars have noticed that there is no reference to musical accompaniment in the priestly sections of the Torah.  Biblical scholar Israel Knohl wrote a book entitled The Sanctuary of Silence.  I say in my post here, as I interact with Knohl’s book: “For Knohl, the priest’s ideal was for people to be silent before a majestic God.  Knohl cites Psalm 65:2: to you (God), silence is praise.”

But there is a lot in the Bible about praising God with music!  To quote Psalm 150:4: “Praise him with the timbrel and dance: praise him with stringed instruments and organs” (Psalm 150).  King David in I Chronicles 25 is credited with establishing Temple musicians, but the Bible depicts music in worship before then: in Exodus 15, the Israelites sing after their Egyptian adversaries are thrown into the sea, and Moses’ sister Miriam plays the timbrel.

Music is a way for people to express their happiness and their longings.  The church uses music so that people can express their happiness and longings towards God, in the context of worship.

B.  The Church of Christ does not include musical instruments in its worship.  The people sing at Church of Christ services, but without accompaniment by musical instruments.  There were church fathers and Christian thinkers who were likewise critical of using musical instruments in worship.  See here for some passages that are critical of musical instruments, but also here for patristic passages that are more supportive of them.

A criticism that some Christians have employed against using musical instruments in worship is that instruments appeal to the flesh.  Their argument is that Old Testament religion was very physical and thus incorporated musical accompaniment to appeal to worshipers, whereas New Testament religion is supposed to be spiritual.  Yet, even those who use this argument seem to acknowledge a place for music in worship, so long as it is sung vocally.  Ephesians 5:19, after all, encourages “Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord” (KJV).

Personally, I do not see what the big deal is when it comes to using musical instruments in worship.  If we are allowed to enhance or manifest our appreciation of God with singing, why not add instrumental accompaniment to the mix?  And is it so wrong to appeal to the physical senses in worship?  Nowadays, many Christian thinkers are rejecting the anti-physical, ultra-spiritual orientation that has characterized elements of Christianity throughout history, noting that God loves God’s physical creation and plans to renew it and dwell in it.

C.  A while back, I was reading Dan Barker’s deconversion testimony.  I cannot find what exactly I read, but here is wikipedia’s page about Dan Barker, in case you want to know more about him.  Essentially, Dan Barker was an evangelical musician who became an atheist.  And my understanding is that there was a season in which he was still singing Christian music, even though he was no longer a believer.

When Dan came out as an atheist, many of his Christian friends and acquaintances were shocked.  One friend asked Dan how Dan made such beautiful, heart-felt music, without believing a word that he was singing.  Dan replied that it was the music that was making him happy, not the words to the songs.

I can somewhat identify with this.  One of the things that I especially like about the church that I attend is its music.  The church is an African-American church, but there are people of other ethnicities and races who attend, as well.  The music is a force of nature!  And, in contrast to some of the other churches that I have visited, the congregation at this church actively participates in the singing: they clap, they wave their hands.  I have visited other churches, and I often feel unsatisfied with the music at these places: perhaps I want to hear more, or I wish that I could display enthusiasm without being looked upon as a nut.  At the church that I am currently attending, I feel fed by the music, and I leave the services feeling full.

But here is a question: am I excited by the music, or by the God towards whom that music is directed?  I cannot deny that I love the music.  I like to clap my hands and sing and bop my head, even when there are times that I am not sure what I believe or feel about God.  I don’t think that is horrible.  I just hope to feel good about God, too.

Whether I display that sort of enthusiasm at secular concerts or when I am listening to secular music, that is a good question.  I suppose that it depends on whether I like the music!  I one time attended a secular concert and I did not care for the music.  But I will say this: I do like art that actually makes a valuable or an edifying point, and that is one reason that I tend to gravitate towards worship music, or Christian music.  I still enjoy the secular stuff, but its lyrics do not edify me that much.  If I were to go to church, and the music there lacked any reference to God, I would be disappointed.

Scattered Ramblings on Contentment and Hope

A few weeks ago, I watched the 1955 movie, A Man Called Peter, which was about Peter Marshall, a preacher and Senate chaplain.  I did not know much about Peter Marshall himself, but I enjoyed his wife Catherine’s book, Christy, along with the TV series and the movies that were inspired by it.  And, a decade ago, I listened to a cassette tape in which his son, Peter, Jr., was vigorously arguing that America was a Christian nation.

But let’s not get on that controversial tangent!  In this post, I want to use as a starting-point a story-line in the movie.  Catherine in the movie gets tuberculosis and is bedridden.  She and her husband pray continually for her to be healed, but to no avail.  Peter wonders if God is punishing him for being prideful, on account of his numerous followers and his prestigious contacts.  At one point, though, Catherine simply accepts her condition.  She tells God that, if she is to remain an invalid for the rest of her natural life, then so be it.  It is at that point that she is healed.  She and Peter both agree that God decided to heal her after she finally accepted her condition.  It’s as if God was waiting for her to stop striving, to make peace with her lot, and to let go.

The theme that I want to highlight is the tension between contentment and persevering in faith.  Both themes are found in Scripture.  On contentment, the apostle Paul says in Philippians 4:11-13:

11 Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.
12 I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.
13 I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.  (KJV)

To quote the old hymn, “Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul!”

And yet, there are also Scriptural passages about persevering in prayer and in faith, which implies not accepting the status quo.  Luke 18:1 introduces a parable by saying: “And he spake a parable unto them to this end, that men ought always to pray, and not to faint” (KJV).  The parable is about an unjust judge who finally gives a woman justice after she has repeatedly asked him for it.  Similarly, in Luke 11, Jesus teaches his disciples to seek and to ask, and he tells them a story about a person who begged his friend at night to give him three loaves.  He got what he wanted, after his frequent requests.

Many Christians apply the theme of perseverance in prayer and faith to their own desires.  They are believing God for a good job, or a spouse, or healing.  Whether they are justified to apply these passages to these kinds of desires is a good question.  The passages themselves relate to something rather specific.  The story in Luke 18 is about God coming to avenge God’s elect, presumably for the persecution that they have received (Luke 18:7).  Essentially, the afflicted Christians are to pray continually for the coming of the Son of Man, to hold on in faith that the Son of Man will come and bring justice.  In Luke 11:13, Jesus says that God will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask.  What are people supposed to seek, knock, and ask for, in Luke 11?  The Holy Spirit.  Within Luke-Acts, that was probably fulfilled in Acts 2, when God poured out the Holy Spirit onto the Jewish Christians on the day of Pentecost.

But can one believe God for other things?  There are passages in the Bible about God providing for people, or God blessing people with good things.  Who is to say that this cannot include a job, or healing?  So often in the Gospels, sick people are healed according to their faith.  One should not condemn people who remain sick or who die in sickness by telling them that their faith was not strong enough.  Bad fruit has come from that approach.  But why can’t people continually hold on to God in faith, keeping hope alive that God may heal them, or grant them the longings and desires of their heart?

In the 1990’s, there was a television show, Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman.  In a very depressing plot-line, the town’s pastor, Timothy Johnson, was going blind.  The Christians of the town continued to pray for God to heal him, and Timothy was trying to hold on to some hope that this healing would occur.  But Sully wanted Timothy to prepare for his coming blindness, and he made Timothy a cane so that Timothy could get around once he became blind.  Dr. Quinn transformed something that she heard from her Native American friend Cloud Dancing into a Christian message for Timothy: that trials occur because God is preparing us for a new stage in life.  (Cloud Dancing said “the spirits” did this.)  The show presented a question: Should Timothy hold out hope and continually pray for God to heal him, or should he simply accept his condition and try to cope with it?  The show supported the second option.

Accepting one’s condition and trying to be happy or content with it can make one feel better.  Being consumed with continuous, unmet desires can lead to feelings of restlessness, discontent, and unfulfillment.  Acceptance, by contrast, can bring a person inner peace.  At the same time, do we truly want to say that God is against us dreaming and hoping?  Life would be boring without our dreams to keep us going.

I was listening to a sermon yesterday.  This was from the prosperity church that I occasionally attend.  The pastor in that particular sermon, however, was preaching contentment rather than hoping for prosperity or increase.  He was saying that, if we find that Jesus is not enough for us, then we are making that something else that we “have” to have into an idol.  He was saying that we should find our contentment and joy in our personal relationship with Jesus.  We should have contentment, because Jesus should be enough.

In terms of my own personal journey, in some areas I have accepted my situation, and in some areas I have not.  I am content with remaining single for the rest of my life.  Maybe there is some hope for a romantic relationship somewhere in my mind, but it is not as consuming as it was back when I was in my twenties.  I have more contentment and acceptance now, in that area of my life.  At the same time, as my student loans loom in the background, I am trying to believe God that, at some point, God will provide for me financially, through employment.  (Of course, I have to do my part, too.)  In some cases, the status quo is tolerable.  In other cases, change is necessary.

On finding contentment in Jesus, that is something I struggle to do, from my Christian agnostic perspective.  I was reading an article yesterday, though, about academic envy, and it sensitized me to how even secular people need something to hold onto for their feelings of self-worth, apart from the vicissitudes of feast and famine, success and failure.  To quote from the article:

“Another friend and colleague said she relies on work-life balance to avoid feelings of envy in the first place. From her perspective, it’s far easier to avoid the traps of professional envy if you don’t rely on your academic successes to define who you are as a person. ‘My self-worth isn’t defined by how many articles I’ve published,’ she told me.”

Contentment.  Dreams.  Holding on to something larger or broader than success or failure.  All of these are important for a healthy outlook.

Identity, Service, Law, and Donation

This post will be about two services from last Sunday: one at a Presbyterian church, and one at a Catholic church.

At the Presbyterian church, the pastor artfully tied together three biblical texts.  The first text was I Kings 19, which was about Elijah fleeing to Horeb and God asking him what he was doing there.  The second text was Galatians 3:23-29, which talks about how the Galatian Christians are clothed with Christ, are children of God, and are Abraham’s seed.  The third text was Luke 8:26-29, which was about Jesus casting demons out of a man, and the exorcised man was then clothed and in his right mind.

The pastor was uniting these three texts around the theme of identity.  Elijah was running away because he was scared, and God gently reminded him of his identity.  Similarly, the pastor said, when we run from God, God reminds us that we are his children.  Galatians 3:23-27, too, is about identity, as Christians’ identity is in Christ and not whether they are Jews or Greeks, free or slave, male or female.  They are children of God, Abraham’s seed.  Luke 8:26-29 was about a man receiving a new identity: he went from being possessed and oppressed by demons, to becoming his old self, clothed and in his right mind.  We sang a hymn, “Silence! Frenzied, Unclean Spirit,” which was about God delivering us from our inner demons, including our fears.

The pastor made a few points that particularly stood out.  For one, he was telling the children the story of Jesus healing the demon-possessed man, and he said that Jesus brought the man clothes after cleansing him of demons.  That makes sense, since Jesus was around for a while after the exorcism, and the man did come to be clothed somehow, so why not conclude that Jesus was the one who brought him the clothes?  Jesus clothing the man may look like a small, insignificant detail, but it is not.  Jesus does not just cleanse the man of demons and move on, but Jesus, ever a servant, continues to help the man on his journey back to normalcy.  May God help us to have that kind of servant attitude, continually looking for and seeing ways to help.

Second, in talking about Galatians 3:23-27, the pastor was referring to the part of the passage about people being under the custody of the law until Jesus came: they were under the supervision of a tutor, until Jesus came and God took a different approach.  The pastor compared the law with Maria on the Sound of Music: she taught the children the basics of singing, the notes to sing.  But the children would move past that. They would mature.

Questions or objections can emerge in response to this.  Of course, many adherents to Judaism would disagree with any Christian characterizations of the law as a stepping-stone to Christ, or as a temporary stage of religion for the spiritually immature until Christians would come with their supposedly mature spirituality.  Plus, are not Christians themselves still under some sort of law, since God has requirements, and God wants for Christians to practice certain disciplines, such as prayer and attendance of worship?  Is that necessarily a bad thing?

Adherents to Judaism may have a point and be justified in their disagreement.  Yet, from a Christian perspective, the coming of Jesus makes a difference, such that people need not have the same relationship with the law that they had before.  They possess the Holy Spirit inside of them, so they do not necessarily need for the law to hover over them, telling them what to do and what not to do.  They will still try to do what is right and avoid what is wrong, but they do so with a new perspective, from a different standpoint: a standpoint of being at a new stage of what God is doing, of being accepted by God, of the Holy Spirit being inside of them.

At the Catholic church, the priest was trying to raise money for air-conditioning for the church, and for a chapel where people can come to pray.  People in the church had actually requested these things.  The priest said that he has the money for this, and it is in our pockets!  Some may sneeze at this: why not give the money to the poor, instead of to enhance the church?  But it is still good to be able to worship in a state of comfort, and to have a place where people can gather to pray.

Church Write-Up: Bill Lumbergh-God (or Worse)?

I visited two churches last Sunday.  One was a non-denominational church that I visited before.  The other was a Baptist church.  The Baptist church was like an African-American church, in that it had an African-American choir, an African-American preacher, and enthusiastic call-and-response.  But there were a lot of white people there.

I will visit the Baptist church again in the future.  People were friendly, but not intrusive.  I also enjoyed the worship.  The songs varied, as they included old-time hymns, classic praise and worship songs that I used to sing at Intervarsity in the 1990’s, and modern praise songs.  At a lot of churches that I visit, we sing the modern songs, and I miss the praise and worship songs that I sang in the 1990’s (“Shout to the Lord,” “As the Deer,” etc.).  The worship at the Baptist church that I attended last Sunday was, thus, a refreshing experience.

To be honest, the sermons at both churches did not make me feel that good about God or myself.  At the non-denominational church, the sermon was about I John 4:18.  The translation that was being used was the New Living Translation, which states for that verse: “Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love.”


The preacher was saying that love and fear cannot co-exist in the same person.  I can understand that fear can hinder us from showing love to other people.  But to say that fear and love cannot co-exist in the same person?  Why can’t a person have a concern and a desire for another’s well-being, while still dealing with fears and phobias about life?  I don’t see why the two cannot co-exist.

And then my mind was unravelling the potential implications of what the preacher, and possibly I John 4:18, are saying.  Love is part of the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22).  I John 4:8 says that those who do not love do not know God.  Since fear and love cannot co-exist, that must mean that people with fear lack love, right?  Does that mean that they lack the Holy Spirit, do not know God, and are unsaved?  Wouldn’t that kind of conclusion make a person more afraid of God’s punishment, not less, which would go against the spirit of I John 4:18?  Plus, would the preacher truly suggest that Christians are never afraid?  Everyone is afraid, on some level—-unless I am the only imperfect person to walk into a church!

I do not think that the preacher was intending for people to arrive at those kinds of negative conclusions.  After all, he said that only imperfect people are allowed at church.  He contrasted God with the boss Gary Cole plays in the movie Office Space, Bill Lumbergh: God is patient, not a tyrant who keeps secrets from employees.  The preacher would probably say that, when we fear, we are not truly grasping the depth of God’s love for us.  We are still loved by God in that case, but we have not truly or sufficiently internalized that love.

The Baptist church that I visited was going through the Book of James.  The preacher was talking about what James said about good works being an expression of faith.  The preacher was chiding those who attended church, yet did not serve the church, or somebody, in some capacity.  He was saying that every Christian has a spiritual gift, and, if we do not know what ours is, shame on us!  The preacher was saying that there will be Christians on judgment day whom God would let into heaven, yet God would do so with frustration: “Oh come in, you lazy person!”  The preacher did not mention this, but I thought of Jesus’ condemnation of the servant who hid the talent in Matthew 25: Jesus called that servant lazy and unprofitable, then ordered him thrown into outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth!

I have a hard time seeing this God as unconditionally loving.  Even if I were to start doing service projects to make this God happy, I would still feel like I am serving Bill Lumbergh-God.  Maybe worse, since I read on wikipedia that Bill Lumbergh was not exactly confrontational.  I somewhat agreed with what the preacher was saying about giving back: we should not just be takers and consumers, but we should give.  But the picture of God that was in my mind after that service was not particularly positive.

"My Times Are in Thy Hand"

At church this morning, we sang the hymn “My Times Are In Thy Hand.”  It dates to the nineteenth century, so I am assuming it is in the public domain.  Here are the lyrics that we sang:

My times are in Thy hand;
My God, I wish them there;
My life, my friends, my soul I leave
Entirely to Thy care.

My times are in Thy hand;
Whatever they may be;
Pleasing or painful, dark or bright,
As best may seem to Thee.

My times are in Thy hand;
Why should I doubt or fear?
My Father’s hand will never cause
His child a needless tear.

My times are in Thy hand,
Jesus, the crucified!
Those hands my cruel sins had pierced
Are now my guard and guide.

I think that, ultimately, my times are in God’s hand.  Whatever happens to me on this earth, good or bad, does not separate me from God’s love.  Bad things may happen in this life, but there is still the afterlife.

Movie Write-Up: Ragamuffin (2014)

I watched the 2014 movie, Ragamuffin, a couple of nights ago.  Ragamuffin tells the story of award-winning Christian Contemporary musician Rich Mullins.  It goes from his childhood, through his success and the time that he spent on a Native American reservation, up to his tragic death in an automobile accident in 1997.

I was familiar with Rich Mullins’ music before I was familiar with Rich Mullins himself.  If you attend an evangelical event of praise and worship, you will probably sing at least one Rich Mullins song, and maybe more.  The songs that I particularly remember are “Step by Step” and “Awesome God.”

Rich did a concert at my undergraduate institution in the 1990s, and I went to that.  We sang “Awesome God.”  He did his simulated “rain” trick, in which people in the audience simulated the sound of rain by snapping their fingers and slapping their thighs.  What was ironic was that it actually did rain after that!  Someone told me that Rich Mullins’ response to that was, “Yeah, that was awesome, wasn’t it?”  He sounded to me like a nice guy, not the sort of celebrity who puts on airs.

Rich Mullins did not just sing at the concert, but he also shared his reflections about faith and life while he was playing the piano.  He was honest and funny.  I remember him sharing about how he can develop his own worldview of how life is, and then the Bible comes along and unravels it!  He referred to that verse in Psalm 137 in which the Psalmist blesses those who dash babies’ heads on rocks.  (The Psalmist is wishing that this might occur to Babylonian babies, since the Babylonians had done the same thing to the Israelites.)  “Imagine sharing that at a pro-life meeting!”, Rich said.

Later, listening to the radio, I gained more insight into how Rich Mullins did not just talk the talk, but walked the walk.  Rich donated most of his money to charity.  He also lived on a poor Native American reservation, teaching music there and helping people out.  It was sad that he died in that automobile accident in 1997, at the young age of 42.

The movie, Ragamuffin, looks into the side of Rich Mullins that I did not know about.  Yes, he was friendly, open, and approachable.  But he was also very lonely, to the point of being needy.  He had friends, but he felt hurt when a friend went somewhere without telling him.  He was what people in Alcoholics Anonymous would call “restless, irritable, and discontent.”  And, speaking of that, there were seasons in which he drank a lot, even when he was a Christian celebrity.  He had unresolved issues with his father, since the two of them did not get along.  He and his college girlfriend also broke up, but he still loved her and did not marry after that.

Rich was not easy to work with because he wanted to do things his way, rather than conforming to the Christian music business’s expectations.  People thought his songs were too brooding and that his running commentary at his concerts was too controversial.  (The songs that I knew never struck me as particularly deep and brooding, but some of his songs apparently were.)  His business superiors tried to appeal to the “toys” that Rich got to buy to get him to conform, but it got to the point where those things did not matter to Rich anymore.  As one of his managers said, “Someone who doesn’t want anything is a dangerous person.”  But Rich was searching for something: authenticity, healing, and fulfillment.

He did not spend all of his time feeling sorry for himself and having an existential crisis, however.  He sought out mentors.  One mentor was the father of his college roommate, a likable, humble fellow, and a strong Christian.  Another was Brennan Manning, a preacher, author, and  recovering alcoholic.  Manning popularized the term “Ragamuffin” (someone who realizes he needs God’s mercy) and taught Rich that God loved him as he was, not as he should be.  Rich also served people at the Native American reservation, and his own brokenness helped him to minister to others at his concerts.  For example, he played and sang the song, “Hold me Jesus, I’m shaking like a leaf.”

Rich obviously did not have everything together.  Perhaps that is what made him accepting, honest, and open with others.

His brother is in the movie, playing the DJ who interviews Rich Mullins.  I thought that the DJ looked like Rich but realized that he couldn’t be him because Rich died about a decade ago.  But it was Rich’s brother Dave.

I found this movie worth watching.  It is a bit long: two hours and seventeen minutes.  But it was an interesting look at the man.  I am still sad that he died.

Wikipedia’s article about Rich Mullins may give you more insight about Rich and his significance.  The article links to some articles that suggest that Rich, soon before his death, was thinking of converting to Catholicism.  (That stands out to me because I remember a Catholic friend telling me that he liked Catholic liturgy rather than “Awesome God.”)  See also wikipedia’s article about Brennan Manning.

Authenticity, Choice, and Free Will

For my blog post about church this morning, I would like to use as my starting-point the stanza of a song that we sang.  The song is entitled “All That I Am.”  The stanza goes as follows:

“All that I am for all that You are my Lord,
“All that I have for all that You are.
“You’re the pearl beyond price greater than life.
“All that I am for all that You are.”

This reminded me of something that I heard John MacArthur say in a sermon a while back: that true Christians exchange all that they are for all that Christ is.

It sort of rubs me the wrong way, to tell you the truth.  I believe that God made each of us unique.  Each of us is one of a kind.  God doesn’t want us to be Jesus-clones.  God wants us to be like Jesus in terms of Jesus’ love and compassion, yet to have our own personalities.  Why should we have to surrender all of what we are for all that God is?  What is wrong with all that we are?

I may be misinterpreting the stanza.  I know plenty of evangelicals and other Christians have said that God created us unique, with our own personalities, gifts, and ways to contribute.  I just get leery at this kind of surrender talk.  I am not sure what to do with it.

I recall M. Scott Peck’s book, People of the Lie, which was about evil.  Peck was talking about a woman he counseled whom he considered to be evil.  This woman was responding to the Christian line that we were created to glorify God and enjoy him forever, and she was baffled by it.  She wondered what room there was for her in that.  Peck seemed to be presenting her as a self-centered narcissist.  I think she was asking a good question.

Another hymn I think of is “Draw Me Nearer.”  It has a line about my will being lost in the will of God.  That turns me off, too.  Losing my will?  That sounds like me losing myself and becoming programmed by God!  Don’t many Christians like to say that God gave us free-will because God doesn’t want robots, but people who freely love him?

A thought has occurred to me more than once as of late.  Yesterday, this thought somewhat intensified, so I wrestled with it more than I usually do.  I was upset with God, and I wondered why I should pray.  I concluded that I should pray for others because I wanted to be a more caring, compassionate person, and that I should ask God to make me that.  But then I had a thought: do I want to be a Christian because I want to be caring or compassionate, or because God wants me to be caring and compassionate?  Who sets the agenda in my life: me or God?  Whom am I trying to please: myself or God?  Where I settled was to say that being caring and compassionate is a good thing—-for me and others—-so it is not just a matter of my personal preference.  I cannot deny that personal preference plays a role, though.  And, to be honest, I do not really feel bad about that.  Maybe my attitude makes me look like a consumer.  Oh well.

Worship can be a bit of a challenge for me.  I do not consider it to be as great of a challenge for me as, say, socializing in unstructured social situations.  The latter is like me as a handicapped person trying to walk.  Regarding worship, I am able to sing songs and to read prayers.  But I am required to get into a mood of getting outside myself and proclaiming that someone, God, is greater than I am.  The attention is going to God.  It is not that I think that I deserve worship.  I realize that there are people who are better in character and talent than I am, that I am far from being the greatest power of the universe, that I am powerless in many areas, that I am a blip in the vast history of the universe, and that there are beautiful and fearsome things in nature that can make me feel small.  Still, getting outside of myself and worshiping God can be difficult.  Yet, I think it is necessary, at least for me.

The pastor’s sermon was interesting.  The pastor was preaching about Mark 12:38-44, in which Jesus criticizes the teachers of the law who devoured widow’s houses, right before pointing out a poor widow who gave everything she had, as small as it was, to the Temple.  The pastor mentioned a variety of issues: how the early church gave to widows; how Jesus and his brother James (who, in James 1:27, saw caring for widows as part of the essence of true religion) may have had a special concern for widows because their mother Mary was one; how giving to the church pays the pastor to do the things that he does (i.e., preaching, counseling); how there are pastors who try to guilt people into giving by saying the people should be self-sacrificial, as Jesus was on the cross; and how the pastor gives to the church because it was a friend to him when he did not have too many friends.

This intersects with what I am talking about: certain moral standards being beyond ourselves, and yet we can authentically embrace them; caring about God and others, even as we and our self-interest do not vanish from the picture; giving as an expression of who we are and where we have been; having and expressing gratitude.  I guess what I long for is personal and spiritual authenticity: doing right out of who I am, out of my personality.  There is a place for doing right out of obligation or obedience to God’s commandments—-certainly one would do well to avoid doing wrong whether that feels authentic or not!  But there is something special about authenticity.  I have long rolled my eyes at the standard Christian explanation (or, rather, A Christian explanation) for why God permits moral evil: God gave us free-will because God doesn’t want us to be robots but beings who freely love him.  Even if that theodicy does not solve everything or make me feel totally better about God or the evil in the world, there is something to it, in my opinion; at the very least, I like its valuation of authenticity, choice, and free-will.

Sinlessness and Seeing

At church this morning, one of the hymns that we sang was “As with Gladness, Men of Old.”  It was about the wise men bringing gifts to the Christ child.  Specifically, these lines stood out to me:

“As they offered gifts most rare
“At that manger rude and bare;
“So may we with holy joy,
“Pure and free from sin’s alloy,
“All our costliest treasures bring,
“Christ, to Thee, our heavenly King.”

“Holy Jesus, every day
“Keep us in the narrow way;
“And, when earthly things are past,
“Bring our ransomed souls at last
“Where they need no star to guide,
“Where no clouds Thy glory hide.”

Two themes captured my attention.  The first theme was being pure and free from sin.  The second theme was seeing Christ directly, in his unhidden glory.

Both are difficult concepts for me to imagine.  Sinlessness?  What would that even be like?  We’re so imperfect.  There’s always some selfishness or self-seeking within us, even if that is not the only or dominant aspect of our character.  Seeing Christ’s full glory?  How can one see the glory of an infinite God?  To see God or Christ in their fullness would be to see infinity.  Is that even possible?

Still, I can appreciate these concepts, on some level.  Imagine loving God and neighbor at such a level that our ulterior motives are non-existent, or at least significantly lessened, and we need not worry about our pride, our lust, our pettiness, and our jealousies, for they do not dominate us or influence us.  Imagine seeing more of God, and perhaps understanding where God is coming from.

The latter theme is significant to me because I often feel as if I do not know where God is coming from.  In his sermon this morning, my pastor was referring to the Christmas tree beside him, and I thought about the anti-Christmas tree sermons that I heard as a child.  God hates Christmas trees because they are pagan, I was told.  I had a hard time understanding the perspective of such a God—-what made this God tick.  I read the Bible, and God has wrath and love.  I have difficulty understanding or knowing this God, the same way that I would know myself or a human being.  Then again, do I even know what makes another human being tick?  There is so much about another human being that I neither see nor know.

Scattered Ramblings on Christ's Coming, First and Second

The theme at church this morning was being ready for the second coming of Christ.  This was one of those church mornings where I did not know for sure what I believed, but I liked the singing.  I particularly enjoyed the hymn, “My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less,” because it was about trusting in God’s grace, regardless of what is going on.  The last stanza was about being clothed in Christ’s righteousness alone when Christ returns.  What went through my mind was the Catholic argument that sola fide is unscriptural, that God will judge us according to our works, that trusting God’s grace is not enough.  Maybe there is some middle ground between the comfort that I felt when singing this song, and acknowledging the importance of doing good works.

Our liturgy was about doing works of the kingdom of God here and now.  Christ will come back and set up a just society, and we anticipate this in our missions to promote justice.  One might as well be on the side of justice!

The pastor made the point in his sermon that Jesus came at just the right time: the world was united in a common language, there were roads, and longing for the Messiah was in the air.  What a good time for Jesus to come, and for the message about him to spread.  Yet, the pastor noted, Jesus was rejected.

I do not entirely agree with my pastor.  Not all of the world was united by one language.  A lot of the world spoke Greek, but what about Asia?  And, if Jesus wanted to come at a time when his message could be spread, why not come in the age of television?  Of course, even then, there are limits, since there are many people in the world who do not have a TV.  One thing I will say: even if Jesus came and a lot of people saw his wonders, he would probably still be rejected by the powers-that-be, as one challenging their policies and stepping on their turf.

The pastor prayed later in the service about how we are hungry for good news.  That is because there is so much bad news in the world.  I have my reasons for asking questions about the second coming of Christ.  But I can identify with the longing for hope.  And there are many places that have good reason to long for it even more.

"O for a Heart to Praise My God"

At church this morning, one of the hymns that we sang was “O for a Heart to Praise My God.”  Click here to read the lyrics and to listen to the song.  The link actually shows a lot more verses than the song had in our hymn book.  The hymn’s words were written by Charles Wesley, and the music was by Thomas Haweis.  The song sounded to me like “O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing,” whose words were also written by Charles Wesley.

The hymn is about the Christian’s wish that God make his or her heart pure, meek, loving, and yielded to God.  I liked the hymn.  I was wondering if there are certain themes that resonate with Christian introverts, and certain themes that resonate with Christian extroverts.  I, as an introvert, happen to like messages that focus on God transforming our sinful hearts, or God loving each of us personally.  Maybe it’s because those messages appeal to my introspective side!  Sermons about reaching out to others, service, and social justice, however, do not resonate with me as much, probably because I would prefer to stay in my home reading than going out and being active in the world.  That does not mean that these themes are unimportant—-they are, very much so, though I would add the caveat that there are ways for introverts to participate in ways that are different from how extroverts participate.

I was also thinking about when I am closer to God: when my heart is relatively pure, or when it is filled with sin.  Well, I cannot say that my heart is ever pure, but there are times when my heart is not preoccupied with anger, resentment, unforgiveness, or anxiety, and instead either has indifference (which is not so pure), or genuine goodwill for others.  I find, though, that I pray more and cling to God more when my heart is filled with sin and I am desperate to feel God’s love and reassurance.  Charles Wesley, though, offers another scenario: suppose one feels closer to God because one’s heart is pure, like the heart of God.

"O Perfect Love"

At church this morning, we sang the hymn, “O Perfect Love” (see here).  At first, I just went through the motions of singing it, without thinking about the words that much.  Then, I decided that the hymn might have some meat to it, so I decided to read the words.  The words of the hymn were rather awkward, but that is not necessarily a bad thing.  If it were straightforward, it would not be as interesting or thought-provoking, I don’t think.

The stanza that most stood out to me was the second one.  It says:

“O perfect Life, be Thou their full assurance,
“Of tender charity and steadfast faith,
“Of patient hope and quiet, brave endurance,
“With childlike trust that fears nor pain nor death.”

What does this mean, exactly?  A perfect life is to be their full assurance—-not so much that things will go well for them or that they will go to heaven after they die—-but that they will have charity, steadfast faith, patient hope, brave endurance, and a lack of fear of pain or death.  Granted, the hope that they will go to heaven after they die may play a role in all this and serve as at least one reason or basis for those virtues.  But, whereas many Christians talk about “assurance” in the context of people knowing they are saved and will go to heaven instead of hell after they die, assurance in this hymn focuses on something else: the assurance of having certain virtues.

What is the perfect life that is the assurance of these virtues?  Is it God himself?  Well, perhaps, but why would God be called a “life”?  A life is something one lives, not the person who is doing the living.  Could it be the perfect life of Jesus, the righteous life that Jesus lived on earth and that many Protestants believe is imputed to those who believe in Jesus?  In this case, the point is that Christians’ assurance of having those virtues comes from the fact that they are righteous before God on account of Christ’s merits, that, when God looks at them, God sees Jesus’ righteous life covering up them and their sins, and so God can now proceed to work on them and make them practically righteous because their guilt no longer hinders their relationship with him.  There is justification—-being considered righteous before God through faith—-and that is followed by sanctification—-leading a life of righteousness and holiness, through God’s Holy Spirit.  Is the hymn simply reaffirming that God will sanctify whom God justifies?

Maybe.  That sounds pretty Martin Luther-esque to me, though, and, according to the wikipedia article about Dorothy Frances Gurney, the author of the words to the hymn, Gurney was from an Anglican family and later became a Roman Catholic.  That did not surprise me, for the part of the hymn about charity accompanying faith seemed rather Catholic to me (since some Catholics say that faith is not enough to save but needs to be accompanied by charity as well).  And yet, my understanding is that Gurney wrote the words to the hymn in 1883, but that she became a Catholic later, in 1919.

Maybe Gurney does not just have in mind justification by faith when she uses the expression “O perfect Life,” but she has in mind the entirety of Jesus’ salvific work.  Jesus came to earth to bring salvation, and the life that he lived would free people from sin, both its guilt and their bondage to it.  Jesus also lives his life in people.  His perfect life is the assurance believers have that they, too, can be righteous.

Here’s another possibility: Maybe that perfect life actually is Jesus himself.  He calls himself the way, the truth, and the life in John 14:6.

Anyway, I think it’s fun to think about these old hymns—-what they mean, and why they say things the way that they do.

Pocahontas: "Savages"

I did not particularly enjoy the 1995 Disney movie, Pocahontas.  I tend to agree with what one review said: “Pocahontas means well, and has moments of startling beauty, but it’s largely a bland, uninspired effort, with uneven plotting and an unfortunate lack of fun.”  The silliness of Mel Gibson’s depiction of Captain John Smith did not help matters, in my opinion.

Still, its music is fantastic.  Its “Colors in the Wind” won an Academy Award.  My favorite part of the movie, however, involves its most controversial song: “Savages.”  Captain John Smith has been captured by the Powhatan Tribe of Native Americans, and the white colonists are getting ready to free him by force, since he would do the same for any one of them.  The sinister Governor Radcliffe then whips up the mob by singing a song depicting the Native Americans as savages, heathens who are barely even human.  One of the men looks at his gun with reluctance, since he doesn’t want to fight, and he doesn’t really accept the Governor’s demagoguing and demonization of the Native Americans.

Meanwhile, people of the Powhatan Tribe are singing the same song, only their version is different.  They are saying that the white people are savages—-callous, greedy, barely even human.  “I wonder if they even bleed,” the song goes.  This stood out to me when I first watched the movie, for the movie was not just critiquing the bigotry of the white settlers.  It was also challenging the more politically-correct narratives, which depict the white man as evil.

In the midst of all this mutual bigotry, hatred, and mistrust, the Powhatan princess, Pocahontas, intercedes to save the life of Captain John Smith.  She tells her father that, if he kills Smith, then he will have to kill her, too.  In that act, she was challenging the prejudice of her tribe, but she was also challenging the prejudice of the whites, who were witnessing an act of great humanity from someone they’d call a “savage.”

Of course I don’t agree with the lyrics of the song: the whole purpose of the song is that bigotry is bad, that the lyrics are wrong.  One could undoubtedly point to atrocities and evils on both sides, but you cannot judge people or hate people for what group they’re in.  In the movie, Pocahontas taught that lesson.  And, whether or not the story reflects what actually happened, it is refreshing that the story became a part of American folklore.

See here for the song.

"Let It Go"----For Ten Hours

I’ve not seen the Disney movie Frozen yet.  I plan to eventually, since the Snow Queen Elsa from Frozen will be a character in the upcoming season of Once Upon a Time (one of my favorite shows).

Even though I’ve not yet seen the movie, I have been listening to the song “Let It Go.”  It won an Academy Award.  I love the song, for a variety of reasons.  Perhaps the biggest reason is that it is about Elsa’s journey from sadness and isolation to self-acceptance, freedom, and triumph, even defiance.  Something I read on the Internet said that Elsa was a misunderstood character.  I think of that as I listen to “Let It Go.”

On YouTube, you can listen to the song for ten hours straight.  Click here if you don’t believe me, or if you do believe me and want to listen to it.  That is a bit much for me.  I don’t want to get to the point where I am so sick of the song, that it fails to inspire me when I actually watch the movie!  I can still identify, however, with one commentator who said that she likes the YouTube video because now she can just listen to the song as long as she wants, without having to manually go back and restart the song.

I’m listening to the video now.  I think I’m on the fourth playing of “Let It Go.”  I’ll shut it off soon because I need to be brought back to earth, and that’s hard when I’m listening to such a highly emotional and intense song.  It can drain one’s emotions!

I’m wanting to review a book on my blog for an academic publishing house.  It’s deciding whether or not to accept me as a reviewer for that book.  Someone from there may be visiting my blog to see what kind of blog it is.  To that person, I ask that he or she look around on my blog.  I do review academic books!  Today, though, I decided to write a light post about a song.  A heavy song.

"Jesus Loves Even Me"

At church this morning, we sang the hymn “Jesus Loves Even Me.”  I especially liked the following stanza:

“Though I forget Him, and wander away,
“Still He doth love me wherever I stray;
“Back to His dear loving arms I do flee,
“When I remember that Jesus loves me.”

A number of Christians may criticize that hymn for being too individualistic.  I happen to like it, though.  I think it’s important to remember that God loves each and every one of us.  That doesn’t preclude the importance of helping other people, though.

Click here to learn about the history of the hymn and to listen to it being sung.

Casey Kasem

Casey Kasem has passed on.  I remember him from the show Saved by the Bell.  Also, back when I was in high school, I listened to him on the radio some Sundays, when he was doing his pop music/love song countdowns, and he read moving letters from people asking them to play certain songs that meant something to them, in light of what they had been through.  And, if I recall correctly, he also hosted a TV Land countdown.  He was called “America’s countdown king.”

R.I.P., Casey Kasem.

Pentecost 2014

At church this morning, we celebrated Pentecost.  We had a couple of speakers from a local faith-based rescue mission.  One speaker worked for the mission, and the other benefited from it.  See here to learn more about the mission.  I may donate to it, every now and then.  It’s important that people have a place to go when they are down and out, a place where people care and can help them get on their feet, when they are ready.

We sang some songs that I liked.  I particularly enjoyed “Come, Holy Spirit,” which is about the Spirit being a soothing, healing presence.  The song ministered to my pastor, as well.

A member of the church gave the message.  He gave us his testimony of how he came to believe in God, and he read an article that he wrote a while back about the benefits of going to church.  You can read that here.

There are times when I get overly introspective spiritually, especially when I read or hear something that makes me feel spiritually inadequate.  But who cares if I am not good enough?  Nobody is!  What’s important is to care for others, wherever they may be.

"Dear Lord and Father of Mankind"

We sang a hymn at church this morning that I really liked.  I was restless, irritable, and discontent before we sang this hymn.  I felt, well, offbeat: we would sing hymns, and I did not know where exactly we were, or what verse we were supposed to be singing.  I also did not know the songs or where exactly they were going, in terms of their music.  Add to that my discontent this week about my apparent lack of social skills, of feeling that I never quite say the right thing in social settings.  I was dealing with my bad memories of that.  After singing one particular hymn at church this morning, however, my mood changed for the better.  It was like how Temple Grandin was in the Temple Grandin movie after she used her squeeze machine: she was much more relaxed, at peace, and sociable, calmly asking a classmate if a particular seat were taken.

The hymn that I liked was entitled “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind.”  The last two verses really stood out to me:

“Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
“Till all our strivings cease;
“Take from our souls the strain and stress,
“And let our ordered lives confess
“The beauty of Thy peace.”

“Breathe through the heats of our desire
“Thy coolness and Thy balm;
“Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
“Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
“O still, small voice of calm!”

Those were the things that I wanted: quietness, peace, order, rest, coolness, calm.  I was a perfectionist, one who was irritable when things were not a certain way, or when people did not interact with me in a particular way.  I wanted for God to breathe through the heats of my desire God’s coolness and balm.

I read more about the hymn on wikipedia, and what the article about it said was interesting.  The hymn that we sang was part of a larger poem, “The Brewing of Soma,” which was written by John Greenleaf Whittier in the nineteenth century.  Whittier was a Quaker, a poet, and an abolitionist.  Whittier College, where Richard Nixon went to college, was named after him.  According to wikipedia, “The Brewing of Soma” essentially contrasts ancient Hindu and a number of Christian attempts to experience the divine with the Quaker way, which Whittier prefers:

“The Brewing of Soma is the Whittier poem (1872) from which the hymn is taken. Soma was a sacred ritual drink in Vedic religion, going back to Proto-Indo-Iranian times (ca. 2000 BC), possibly with hallucinogenic properties.  The storyline is of Vedic priests brewing and drinking Soma in an attempt to experience divinity. It describes the whole population getting drunk on Soma. It compares this to some Christians’ use of ‘music, incense, vigils drear, And trance, to bring the skies more near, Or lift men up to heaven!’ But all in vain—it is mere intoxication.  Whittier ends by describing the true method for contact with the divine, as practised by Quakers: Sober lives dedicated to doing God’s will, seeking silence and selflessness in order to hear the “still, small voice” described in I Kings 19:11-13 as the authentic voice of God, rather than earthquake, wind or fire.”

The wikipedia article about Whittier himself said that Nathaniel Hawthorne was quite critical of Whittier’s poetry.  Well, I love The Scarlet Letter, but I happen to really like “The Brewing of Soma”!  I am not a poetry person myself, but the poem speaks to me in terms of what I long for in life.

According to the wikipedia article about the hymn, the hymn is often set to a different tune in Great Britain than in the United States.  Here is the hymn sung to the tune of “Repton,” which is what is usually sung in Great Britain.  And here is what I sang this morning: the hymn played to the tune of “Rest.”  To be honest, I prefer the Repton version: I find it more relaxing.

The Significance of Israel in Jesus' Advent

At church this morning, we sang Charles Wesley’s hymn, “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus.”  See here to read the lyrics, and here to listen to the song.

The song contains a line that calls Jesus “Israel’s strength and consolation.”  But how was Jesus Israel’s strength and consolation?  Come to think of it, the song “O Come, O Come Immanuel” asks Jesus to “come and ransom Is-RA-EL.”  But how did Jesus ransom Israel?  Jesus went to heaven, and Jerusalem and the Temple were destroyed some decades later.

I’ve wondered how exactly Jesus fits into the hopes and expectations of the Hebrew Bible, hopes and expectations that concern God’s deliverance of the nation of Israel from exile and from her oppressors.  Here are some solutions that people have proposed:

—-Jesus offered Israel the Kingdom, which would include deliverance from the Romans, and Israel rejected it.  There are many dispensationalists who offer this explanation.  There may be something to it, for Peter in Acts 3:19-21 exhorts Israel to repent so that God might send times of refreshment through Jesus the Messiah.  At the same time, I have a hard time believing that the New Testament sees the church as God’s Plan B.

—-Because most of Israel rejected the Messiah, God went to the Gentiles, building the church on the remnant of Jews who embrace what God is doing, and also on believing Gentiles.  But God is not through with the nation of Israel, for Israel will one day be saved and turned towards God.  This is one way to read Romans 9-11.  Is it consistent with the Hebrew Bible, however?  Well, on the one hand, the Hebrew Bible does talk a lot about the righteous remnant in Israel, and that could be consistent with what Paul is arguing.  It’s not a perfect correspondence, mind you, for I don’t recall the Hebrew Bible saying that the righteous remnant will believe in the Messiah while the rest of Israel won’t, but both do seem to be talking about God building Israel on a righteous remnant.  On the other hand, the Hebrew Bible usually paints a picture of God restoring Israel, and then the Gentiles coming to worship God, whereas Paul depicts the opposite happening (the Gentiles come to worship God, then Israel will be saved).

—-Jesus was preaching rebellion against Rome, and that was later downplayed by Gospel authors not wanting Roman persecution.  I’m seeing this sort of message as I read S.G.F. Brandon’s Jesus and the Zealots.

I do believe that Jesus had Israel in mind throughout his mission, and that his plan was much more than for the church to replace Israel as God’s chosen people.  I think that Israel should be factored in when Christians consider Jesus’ advent, and that they shouldn’t skip that to say that Jesus came to die for everyone’s sins.

Psalm 122

Psalm 122 is about going to Jerusalem, as well as desiring Jerusalem's prosperity and peace.  Last week, I shared songs about Psalm 121.  This week, allow me to share this song, which is about the first line of Psalm 122: "I was glad when they said to me, let us go into the house of the LORD" (KJV).

What I'd like to focus on in this post is Psalm 122:5: " For there are set thrones of judgment, the thrones of the house of David."  Patrick Miller in the HarperCollins Study Bible says the following: "Jerusalem is praised...as a place where just judgment may be found (cf. Deut 17.8-13; Isa 2.2-4; Mic 4.1-4)...See 1 Kings 7.7.  On the responsibility of kings for rendering justice and judgment in Jerusalem, see 2 Sam 15.1-6; 1 Kings 3.16-28; Jer 21.12; 22.15-16."

Miller cites a lot of passages there.  In Deuteronomy 17:8-13, the levitical priests are the ones at the central sanctuary who pass judgment in difficult cases.  In some of those other passages, however, such as Jeremiah 21:12 and 22:15-16, God appears to want the Davidic monarch to execute justice.

The reason that this whole issue stood out to me when I was reading and studying Psalm 122 was that I had recently listened to a podcast on I Kings.  The podcasts are done by Matthew Ryan Hauge and Craig Evan Anderson, both of whom have Ph.Ds.  They're excellent, in my opinion, for they go into I Kings in depth, explaining why people are acting as they are in the text.  In the podcast on I Kings 3:4-15, in which Solomon asks God for wisdom so that he could judge the people, one of the hosts was saying that Solomon here was trying to usurp power that did not belong to him.  The host noted that Deuteronomy 17:8-13 says that the levitical priests are to be the ones who are to judge, but here Solomon was, wanting to be the judge himself.  (UPDATE: Looney under my blogger post notes that Deuteronomy 17:9 mentions a judge who was not a Levite.  As I look again at Hauge and Evans' notes about their podcast, they, too, seem to acknowledge the existence of non-Levite judges.  Still, their argument appears to be that kings, according to Deuteronomy, were not the ones who were to judge.)

I think that the host is raising important issues, but I am not entirely convinced by his interpretation, for a variety of reasons.  For one, how do we know that either Solomon or the narrator of I Kings 3:4-15 was aware of the law in Deuteronomy 17:8-13?  My impression is that there are many scholars who date Deuteronomy later than King Solomon.  Moreover, while the Deuteronomist indeed added things to I Kings, my understanding (based on what a number of scholars have said) is that he did not write all of the narrative in I Kings himself.  Couldn't the part of the story about Solomon asking God for wisdom so that he could judge the people be prior to the time of the Deuteronomist?  If so, then maybe the narrator is not portraying Solomon as doing something wrong in wanting wisdom so that he could judge; rather, the narrator may assume that Solomon's request is reasonable, since kings in those days judged.

Second, God in I Kings 3:4-15 approved of Solomon's request for wisdom.  There is no indication in the text that Solomon was illegitimately seeking to usurp power that belonged to someone else.

Third, I do not know how Hauge and Anderson approach the diversity of Scripture----if they believe that the Bible contains different voices with different ideologies, or if they believe that all of the Bible is the viewpoint of God.  The thing is, the Hebrew Bible strikes me as rather diverse on the issue of who should judge.  Deuteronomy 17:8-13 says that the Levitical priests should, but there are other passages that are either okay with the Davidic king judging, or that encourage the Davidic king to do so.  How do we know that I Kings 3:4-15 is not one of the voices that presumes that the Davidic king should judge?

But things may be messier than I have implied so far in this post.  The reason is that, while Psalm 122 appears to be okay with the Davidic king judging, it appears to have been influenced by Deuteronomic thought.  Psalm 122:4 mentions giving thanks to the name of the LORD.  That is a Deuteronomic concept: that the house of God is a place where God has put God's name, not a home that God himself inhabits.  Psalm 122 may adopt some aspects of Deuteronomic ideology, but not other aspects.  Or could the Deuteronomistic School have changed its mind by coming to accept the role of the Davidic king as judge over Israel?

Psalm 121

For my weekly quiet time post today, I'll be talking about Psalm 121.  I have three items.

1.  I'd like to share two pieces of music about Psalm 121: see here and here.  The first is Susan Ashton's "Psalm 121."  This was one of the many Christian Contemporary Music songs that I would hear on the way to and from work, as my car radio was tuned in to my local Christian radio station.  The second YouTube video, I believe, is of Paul Wilbur.  I just now found this rendition of Psalm 121 on YouTube, but I originally heard it on a CD that I have of Messianic Jewish praise music, a CD that I used to play a lot when I was in college.

2.  Well, as Paul Wilbur (I think that's who the singer on the second video is) says in introducing the song he will sing about Psalm 121, "Psalm 121 says: 'I lift up my eyes to the hills.  Where does my help come from?  My help comes from the LORD, maker of heaven and earth.'"

There is actually quite a bit of discussion about this verse.  Why, people ask, does the Psalmist lift up his eyes to the hills when he's looking for help?  There are a variety of answers that have been proposed to this question, but I will mention two.  The first proposal is that the Psalmist is journeying to Jerusalem, and the Temple of Jerusalem is on a mountain.  The mountain where God's temple stands can apparently be pluralized, as seems to be the case in Psalm 87:1, so the Psalmist lifting his eyes to the hills (plural) could mean that he's looking at one hill, the one where the Temple is.  As the Psalmist makes his journey to Jerusalem, through the hostile terrains, the Psalmist looks to the mountain where God is, realizing that his help comes from the God who dwells on that mountain.

The second proposal is that the Psalmist is saying that he is not looking to the hills for assistance, but rather to the LORD.  Adherents to this view appeal to Jeremiah 3:23, which states (in the King James Version): "Truly in vain is salvation hoped for from the hills, and from the multitude of mountains: truly in the LORD our God is the salvation of Israel."  On the hills were sanctuaries that certain Yahwists did not particularly like, sanctuaries that either had pagan worship, or the worship of the LORD in a manner that certain Yahwists did not deem to be appropriate.  Some say, therefore, that the Psalmist in Psalm 121:1 is rejecting false worship, choosing instead to look to the LORD for help.

3.  Psalm 121:6 states (in the KJV): "The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night."  I can understanding wanting protection from the hot sun during the daytime, but why would one desire protection from the moon at night?  One can't die of moon-stroke, right?

John Gill refers to Macrobius and Plutarch, who apparently believed that the moon did generate heat.  Keil-Delitzsch says that the moon can injure one's eyes.  And J. Vernon McGee remarked that the moon can have a funny effect on people!

Leslie Allen and the Intervarsity Press Bible Background Commentary, however, say that, in ancient times, the moon was believed to cause health problems.  The Intervarsity Press Bible Background Commentary refers to first millennium B.C.E. texts from Babylonia and Assyria about health problems being caused by the moon god, some of which sound like epilepsy.  And Leslie Allen refers to the Greek word that is often translated in terms of epilepsy in English translations of Matthew 4:24 and 17:15, seleniaxesthai, which literally means "to be moonstruck."  Did the author of Matthew's Gospel believe that the moon caused health problems?  Or did he simply use the word for "to be moonstruck" for epilepsy because that was the common word for epilepsy in his day, whether or not he agreed with the notion that led to that word, namely, that the moon caused epilepsy?