A Bunch of Ramblings on Jubilees and Last Week's The Middle

This will be a rambling post that talks about the pseudepigraphical Book of Jubilees and last Wednesday’s episode of The Middle.

I’ve been reading the Book of Jubilees for my daily quiet time.  The Book of Jubilees dates to the second century B.C.E., and it may have been intended to be an interpretation of the Pentateuch of the Bible, or an alternative to it.

I have not finished the Book of Jubilees, so my thoughts about it are not complete; I do not plan to keep on editing and re-editing this post in light of new information that I encounter there, so please keep that in mind.  In my reading so far, Jubilees is a mix.  It is rather xenophobic, and, when it depicts Israel’s calling as a priesthood, it does not seem to say (at least not in what I have read thus far) that Israel’s priesthood is intended to bless the nations; rather, Israel’s priesthood is about Israel worshiping God.  (UPDATE: Actually, there are parts of Jubilees about God's people blessing the nations, or the nations blessing themselves through God's people.  But there is also xenophobia.)  Think of it this way: the biblical prophets, particularly First Isaiah, talk about a remnant.  God cleanses the land of sinners and builds Israel on the righteous few who are left; heck, the Noah story is a remnant story about the entire world.  Well, my impression in reading Jubilees is that it believes that Israel is like a remnant: God has given up on the world, but God still has worshipers in Israel.  Israel, in a sense, is a remnant of humanity.  At the same time, I should mention that there are passages in Jubilees about Israel ruling the nations, a scenario in which the nations at least survive.

Its xenophobia notwithstanding, Jubilees does have profound passages about love.  Jacob, for example, is one who tries to do good to all, and to think of good for all.  He does not want to hate anyone.  This is particularly evident after Jacob returns to the Promised Land after his horrible time with his Uncle Laban.  Jacob’s mother Rebecca (who is still alive) encourages Jacob to patch things up with his brother Esau, because she does not want her sons to be fighting each other after she and Isaac die.  Esau, even though Jubilees portrays him as depraved and a bit callous towards his parents (yet outwardly polite), does try to be a good sport: when Isaac is divvying up his inheritance of land and a tower to distribute to his sons, Esau reminds Isaac that, although Esau is the firstborn, Jacob is entitled to the lion’s share of the inheritance, for Esau years before gave up his birthright to Jacob in exchange for a mess of pottage.  But Esau’s sons later threaten and persuade their father to challenge Jacob in battle.  Jacob takes steps to defend himself, but he is merciful to Esau’s sons.

I enjoyed these parts of the book.  I’ve long wondered what exactly it meant, practically-speaking, for Jacob to receive Esau’s birthright.  Jubilees offered an explanation.  Also, I was glad that Jacob got to see his mother before she died.  You don’t see that in the Book of Genesis, at least not explicitly.  I’ve heard sermons and lectures that say that Jacob, after fleeing the Promised Land to go to Aram, never got to see his mother again, his mother who loved him and favored him over Esau.  That was sad to me.  Jacob was a quiet man, one his mother loved, and he never got to see his mother again?  Well, Jubilees says that he did!  The Book of Genesis says that, at some point, Rebecca’s nurse Deborah was with Jacob’s community (Genesis 35:8), so who is to say that Jacob did not get to see his mother before she died, even for the one who wrote parts of Genesis?

Jacob also comes to love his wife Leah.  In the Book of Genesis, Jacob loves Rachel better, and he cannot really move on after Rachel has died.  He loves Rachel’s sons more than Leah’s sons.  In Jubilees, Jacob still prefers Rachel, yet he is saddened after Leah dies.  He appreciated Leah as a gentle, good woman.  Jubilees 36:24 says that he “lamented greatly for her because he loved her with all his heart and all his soul” O.S. Wintermute’s translation).

Jubilees more than once mentions sins that God will not forgive.  God will not forgive an Israelite who sleeps with his father’s wife or concubine (33:13), but that person is to be stoned.  Jubilees 30:10 says that an Israelite who lets his daughter be defiled by a Gentile will not receive forgiveness or remission.  I should also note that the pseudepigraphical Book of I Enoch presents beings who cannot receive forgiveness, even if they seek it—-the fallen angels.

I wonder if anyone has tied any of this to Jesus’ statements in the synoptic Gospels that those who blaspheme the Holy Spirit will not receive forgiveness, in this age or the age to come (Matthew 12:31; Mark 3:29; Luke 12:10).  A lot of times, I have read people attempt to explain those passages from a pastoral perspective: they want to reassure troubled souls that they did not actually blaspheme the Holy Spirit and thus have nothing to worry about.  Sometimes, they are addressing silly questions, like “I stubbed my toe and cursed—-did I blaspheme the Holy Spirit?”  But, take that pastoral motivation out of the equation, study the Gospel passages in light of Second Temple Judaism, and what do you find?  What can you conclude?  We see in Jubilees and in I Enoch the idea of unforgivable sins.  I can somewhat sympathize with atheist scholar Robert Price’s statement (which I heard in one of his Genesis lectures, I think) that an atheist can approach the Bible more objectively than many believers can—-he can see what the Bible says, rather than trying to soften it from a pastoral perspective, or seeking to explain away parts to make it look inerrant.  I still consider myself a believer.  When it comes to the blasphemy of the Holy Spirit, I keep in mind Hebrew Bible passages in which God threatens things, but does not carry out his threats (see my post here).  I am not for tempting God, but I don’t view any of God’s threats as an absolute—-with no ifs, ands, or buts.

Back to Jubilees, though.  I was reading Jubilees’ rendition of the story of Judah and Tamar in Genesis 38.  Judah has a daughter-in-law named Tamar, and God keeps killing her husbands because they are wicked.  Judah is afraid to give Tamar his next son in line!  Tamar, therefore, dresses up as a prostitute, and Judah sleeps with her, not knowing who she is.  Judah gives her collateral.  When he later finds out that Tamar played the harlot, he says that she must be burned!  Tamar shows him his collateral, and Judah realizes that he slept with her.  Judah then acknowledges that she is more righteous than him.

Jubilees’ telling of the story was similar to Genesis 38, overall.  But Jubilees stresses that Judah received forgiveness from God because he repented.  This was actually pretty noteworthy to me—-you have an Israelite sinning and receiving forgiveness, which differs from the overall tone of Jubilees.  Jubilees does have some notion of atonement—-it even says that Yom Kippur is about God forgiving Israel for what her ancestors did to Joseph (Jubilees 34:18-19), in selling him and making their father believe he was dead.  But, overall, Jubilees is rather punitive and perfectionist: it mentions sins that cannot be forgiven, and it calls the Hebrew protagonists perfect.  For some reason, it presents Abraham passing tests that some may think he did not pass: Abraham passed the test when his wife was in Egypt and he lied to the Egyptians by saying she was his sister; usually, pastors say that Abraham was sinning at that point.  Not Jubilees, though!

I was thinking that Jubilees 38 was a refreshing exception, an indication that Jubilees believed in forgiveness.  Then Jubilees went all punitive.  Jubilees 41 goes on to say that, even though Judah was forgiven by God, those who commit those kinds of defiling sins must be burned in the fire!  Jubilees then goes on to praise Judah for ordering his daughter to be burned for prostitution.  That actually pleased God, according to Jubilees!

The thing is, I look at that story, and Judah does not come out looking all that good, except when he repents and admits Tamar was more righteous than he was.  Judah prior to that point was a hypocrite—-he slept with a prostitute, then ordered his daughter to be burned for prostitution.  His motto should be “Do as I say, not as I do.”  Even in Jubilees, he was married to a Canaanite woman, but he did not want his sons to marry Canaanite women.

That brings me to last Wednesday’s episode of The Middle.  Frankie is going on a field trip with her socially-inept son, Brick.  She wants for one of the boys on the bus to sit by Brick rather than his two friends so that Brick can make a friend.  Frankie tries to persuade the boy’s mother to have him sit next to Brick, since the boy was crowding the seat, but the boy’s mother said that was not a problem.  Later, Frankie yells at the boy’s mother.  Brick’s therapist comes to Frankie while she is sitting alone and has a talk with her.  Frankie recalls a time when she did the same thing that she was yelling at that boy’s mom for doing: after a high school ball game, she was about to drive her cooler son Axl and his friends, and another mother said one of the boys can ride with her and her son, for there was room.  Frankie replied, “Oh, we’re fine!”, then walked on.  Frankie is mortified when she remembers this—-she exclaims, “I was one of those “Oh, we’re fine” moms!”  Brick’s therapist tells her, though, that everyone makes mistakes.  Later in the episode, the boy’s mother tells her son to sit by Brick, and Frankie whispers to her, “Thank you.”  As is often the case in The Middle, we think we are going to end on a warm and fuzzy note, then some humor undercuts that: Brick didn’t want to sit by the boy and left quickly so there would be no awkward silences, then patted himself on the back for his social intelligence!

In any case, Frankie was like Judah after he repented: she realized she had made mistakes, was sorry for them, and tried to be better.

Brick Tries to Make Friends

I watched the latest episode of The Middle.  Brick tries to make friends.  And this time, he’s not doing so because his Mom or his therapist want him to do that.  He’s doing so because he wants to do that.  He wants to be a part of the camaraderie that he sees among other boys his age.  And, while he does enjoy reading, he gets lonely reading his book by himself during lunch.

His cool brother Axel tells Brick that Brick should not aim to be friends with the cool kids, since they are out of Brick’s league.  Rather, Brick should aim lower: he should try to be friends with the not-so-cool kids.

Well, Brick has a rough road on this episode.  Some of it is his own fault—-he gets distracted, he does not always maintain good eye-contact with those who are talking to him, and he does not pick up on social cues.  At the end, though, a socially-awkward girl invites him out for frozen yogurt.  At first, he says no because he’s not hungry.  After his Mom tells him that the girl was asking him out, he goes.  Still, he keeps changing his mind about whether he wants to be out with this girl.  Brick texts his parents to pick him up, then changes his mind.

I like the episodes of The Middle about Brick’s social struggles.  I feel less alone when I watch those episodes.  (The same goes for episodes of the Big Bang Theory, especially Raj’s issues with talking to women.)  Like Brick, there are vacillations in my attitudes about friendship and socializing.  At times, I feel lonely.  The problem is that I don’t particularly like many people or socializing, a lot of the time, so I am reluctant to make friends.

My past experiences in therapy have been mixed on this.  Some therapists push me to make friends, when the problem with that is that I have had friendships in the past and have felt burned by them, for a variety of reasons.  Some therapists, however, have respected where I am and have tried to teach me social skills to use when I do interact with people, rather than pushing me to dive into friendships.  I prefer the latter approach.  I need more of the latter approach.

Snowed In, But Stay Tuned! Okay, About Once Upon a Time...

I don’t have a blog post about church today because I did not go to it, due to the snow.  I was going to write a “free” post, if you will, about a topic of my choice, but I’m not in much of a mood to do so.  I’m in a mellow, introverted mood.  But stay tuned for next Sunday!  Maybe then I’ll get to church and write a blog post about it.

Well, come to think of it, I’ve suddenly developed the mood to write.  Tonight is the Winter finale of Once Upon a Time.  That is one of the few new shows that I watch: I watch that and The Middle.  Once Upon a Time has been all right this season.  It was interesting that Peter Pan turned out to be the father of Mr. Gold/Rumpelstiltskin!  The story about the little mermaid was pretty good, too.

I have also been watching Once Upon a Time in Wonderland on Thursday nights.  That’s been hit or miss for me—-some episodes I really like, and some I don’t.  I have particularly enjoyed the flashbacks about Jafar, the villain of the series.  In general, the Once Upon a Time series does an excellent job with stories about how evil people became evil.  I still remember last season of Once Upon a Time, when we saw how Regina’s mother Cora became how she was.  In one scene, a princess tripped a young Cora (who was a peasant before she became queen), and the princess was asked if she was all right!  That made me angry, and sympathetic towards Cora.

In one of the episodes of Once Upon a Time in Wonderland, we learn about Jafar’s relationship with his father.  Jafar’s father was a sultan, and Jafar was his illegitimate son (I don’t like the word “illegitimate” here, but I can’t think of an alternative word to use, and I don’t want to use “bastard”).  The sultan let Jafar stay around as a servant, but he would not recognize Jafar as his son.  When the show cuts to the present, we see that Jafar has Alice’s father in prison, and there is an old man there.  Alice’s father later apologizes to Alice (while Jafar suspends him in the air) for not being a good father.  When we cut back to Jafar’s past, Jafar is returning to the sultan.  Jafar as a child was drowned and thrown out of the palace by his father, and Jafar then went on to receive training in magic so that he could become powerful and exact revenge.  Jafar is now an adult, and he is returning to the sultan as a powerful wizard, and we see that the sultan is the old man who would later be in Jafar’s prison.  The show cuts to the present, and Jafar is talking with his father, who is in a huge birdcage.  Jafar wants the genie so that he can make his sultan father acknowledge that Jafar is his son.  The father asks what good that would be, if he’s forced to say what he doesn’t truly mean.  But, for some reason, it’s good enough for Jafar.  That made me think: in some cases, I’m content with people pretending that they like me even if they don’t, because at least things run smoothly then.  It’s not an uphill social battle for me in that sort of situation.  I know that’s slightly different from Jafar’s situation, but that storyline still made me think about this issue.

In any case, that was a powerful episode.  I’m sure that we’re intended to compare Alice’s father with Jafar’s father, and that there is deep meaning in all of that, but I don’t have the words for it.  Perhaps somebody else does!

The Middle on Trying to Be Profound and Thoughtfulness

The Middle had a good episode last night (see here). Axl was trying to write a paper about something he learned in his life, but he was having a hard time because he did not have too many profound experiences of suffering and growth. Frankie was upset because Mike did not get her a rose when they were at dinner with friends for Valentine’s Day, but then their youngest son, Brick, read the family a paper about how Frankie and Mike show their love for each other in little acts of thoughtfuless: Frankie rubbing Mike’s neck, Mike scraping the ice off of Frankie’s windshield, etc. (Axl then stole Brick’s paper and read it to his class!)

I liked this episode, first of all, because of the pressure on writers and bloggers to always be profound. Second, I appreciated how the episode defined love as little acts of kindness and thoughtfulness.

Not Being a Hypocrite

At church this morning, the Prayer of Confession contained the following lines:

“Forgive us, God of light and author of love…if we have denied in word or deed the Christ who died for us…if we have been different people on Monday than we are on Sunday…”

For me, this means that my public face and my private face should be similar. On the ABC program The Middle, a theme of one of the episodes this season was that we often give our best behavior to strangers, but not to our families. Granted, it’s good to be able to be ourselves around our loved ones, within our comfort zones. Home may be a place for more honesty about our struggles and our feelings than we express in the outside world. But home should not be a place for rudeness.

As far as denying Christ in word or deed goes, I wonder what this means. If it means denying Christ by being complete jerks, then I can see the point of the prayer. I think that a significant element of worship is to be a good person, and to do what the pastor exhorted in this morning’s service: to see the world and the people in it through Jesus’ eyes of compassion. If the prayer means that I have to make a bold stance for evangelical Christianity before others, however, then I have a problem with that, since I have issues with evangelical Christianity. I don’t think that I should get to the point where I bash evangelical Christianity to gain approval by other people—-whether they be atheists, or cynical Christians, or ex-Christians, or people adhering to non-Christian religions who have beefs with evangelical Christianity. But I do believe that I should be honest about what my problems are with certain belief systems—-perhaps for me to find answers or some way to move on. Unfortunately, there are times when the line between the two is pretty thin! Moreover, it would be nice if I could sincerely fall in love with Jesus. Then, if I do proclaim him, it isn’t out of some religious obligation that I feel, but is out of love and appreciation for Jesus and his qualities.

"What Do You Do with the Mad That You Feel?"

I’m still persevering in my reading of Stephen King’s Lisey’s Story. There were a couple of times in my reading last night when I thought that the book was putting a mystery on the table, and I hoped that would make me want to read on to see how the mystery would be solved. But, unfortunately, that’s not what happened. When a mysterious guy referring to himself as “Zack McCool” calls Lisey, and we’re wondering who he is, he turns out to be a bully of sorts, hired by a professor who wants the manuscripts of Lisey’s late husband, the author Scott Landon. (UPDATE: See here.) When Lisey finds what appears to be a thousand page work by her husband, she is curious about why her husband wrote that and did not tell her about it. It turns out that it’s only one page, and the other pages are blank. I suppose that there could be a profound mystery there, but the opposite could easily be true: Many authors start projects that they do not finish.

So I’m still waiting for something in this book that will hook me, for I like to finish what I start. I’ll still continue to blog about things that stand out to me in the book, though. And what stood out to me in last night’s reading was something that Lisey’s sister Amanda did: she cut herself because she was upset that a long-time boyfriend was with somebody else. In her mind, her cutting herself was a way for her to attack her boyfriend. At times, Amanda was quiet about why she was so upset. But, when Amanda got to expressing her feelings to Lisey, she unleashed “a mixture of adult obscenity and childish poopie-talk that filled Lisey with amazement, amusement, and admiration.” (And why Lisey admired that, I have no idea, but I don’t understand many of Lisey’s feelings in this book, to tell you the truth.) Lisey responds to Amanda, “It’s just…saying you were mad at him will be enough.”

I identified with this part of the book because I’m not always sure how to deal with anger and resentment. I mean, how many times can I call somebody a “douche-bag” in my mind? It doesn’t change anything. The douche-bags are still going about their business, and most likely they wouldn’t even care what I thought about them if they knew about my feelings. I could just say that I’m “mad” at them, but that doesn’t seem adequate—-and so I have felt like using the F-word, or other words that I’ve been taught were forbidden. For some reason, I view those as channels for my anger. Maybe I hope that they will provide me with release. But they don’t really. There are many times when I only feel angrier after using those words.

What exactly should one do with anger—-at the world not being as one thinks it should be, when you feel like attacking something, but you know that you cannot do so? As Mr. Rogers used to sing, “What do you do with the mad that you feel?” To be honest, there are days when I’m glad to be in the state that Mr. Heck was in last week’s episode of The Middle: not to care what others think about me because I feel so dead inside. A flat mood is what I want! I don’t like happy moods because they can be easily disrupted. I don’t like upset moods because they stress me out. Give me a flat mood!