Antiochus Epiphanes, Celsus on Discontinuity

I have two items today for my post on Louis Feldman's Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World:

1. On pages 91-92, Feldman argues that the Seleucid Antiochus IV Epiphanes of the second century B.C.E. did not persecute the Jews of Judea out of Jew-hatred, for he did not persecute Jews elsewhere in his realm (i.e., Syria and Asia Minor), "he was educated in an atmosphere of religious tolerance" (and Polybius actually disliked Antiochus for his egalitarianism), he was not a religious fanatic, and he did not oppress Jews at the beginning of his reign. He did desire money, of which the Temple had an abundance, for he was involved in struggles against the Parthians, the Ptolemies, and Romans, and people in his own realm, which was costly. He was also humiliated when a Roman general told him to get out of Egypt. What Feldman appears to settle on as the explanation for Antiochus' persecution of Judaism in Judea was that there was turmoil there, and Antiochus felt that he could not have "instability on his southern frontier." The turmoil concerned Hellenization, and extreme Jewish Hellenizers probably advised Antiochus that only religious suppression could restore order.

2. On page 112, Feldman refers to the anti-Christian Celsus (second century C.E.) who wondered (and this is Feldman's summary): "If the prophets had foretold that Jesus would be the son of G-d, why did G-d promise the Jews that they would become rich and powerful and fill the earth and massacre their enemies, whereas Jesus condemns the rich and the powerful?"

That's a good question. I've wondered similar things, even if I've not been able to articulate them.

Chapters 38-39 of The Stand

Last night, I read Chapters 38-39 of Stephen King’s The Stand: The Complete and Uncut Edition. I have three items for today:

1. Chapter 38 was about people who survived the superflu, yet they went on to die of other causes—such as accidents, or a heart attack, etc. On page 354, a character named George McDougall, who lost his many children to the superflu, thinks as he is jogging: “[George] could not commit suicide because as a practicing Catholic he knew that suicide was a mortal sin and God must be saving him for something, so he jogged.” But he died soon thereafter of a “massive coronary thrombosis”, and he was glad to do so. So much for God preserving him for something important!

When I saw the television miniseries for The Stand, I thought that the people who survived the superflu were preserved by God (or the powers of evil) for some reason. Now, I’m not so sure. Granted, there were people who were assigned tasks: Lloyd in Chapter 39, for example, is made the right-hand man of Randall Flagg, the villain of the book. Flagg acknowledges that Lloyd was not the brightest bulb in the box, but he felt that Lloyd could be loyal to him. But weren’t there other not-so-bright, loyal people in the world who died of the superflu? Why was Lloyd preserved, but not them? Maybe there was no reason, and it was by random selection that a few people were made immune to the disease. And, even then, being made immune did not mean that one was touched by God and invulnerable to all of the life-threatening vicissitudes of life. It just meant that a person was made immune to the superflu.

But the book may wrestle with this issue. I will have to see. Something that is interesting is that the characters of Chapter 38 were not said to have had dreams—you know, the Mother Abigail dreams that drew some survivors to Boulder, or the Flagg dreams for the more evil survivors. So was a spiritual force not guiding them? But, come to think of it, the whole “dreams” thing is not entirely working out in the book as it does in the miniseries. I am in the middle 300′s in terms of pages, and no one has had a Mother Abigail dream! We have not even been introduced to Mother Abigail, yet! The dreams—by Nick, or by Stu, or by Fran—have mostly related to Flagg, or to a corn field, but there’s nothing yet about Mother Abigail and Boulder.

(UPDATE: On page 372, Nick Andros has the first Mother Abigail dream in the book.)

2. One of the characters in Chapter 38 who survives the flu and then dies of something else is young Judy, a seventeen year old cheerleader. She becomes pregnant by an engineering student named Waldo Horton, and her parents pressure her to marry Waldo, even though she does not want to do so and has her own hopes and dreams. While married to Waldo, she worked in fast-food restaurants and motels while Waldo went to school, and she wanted Waldo to quit school and get a job. But her parents told her that things would be better once Waldo got a good job, and that she would feel better if she went to church more often. Judy resented the interference by her parents and her in-laws.

That kind of resentment occurs often. And there are cases in which parents and in-laws interfere for little good reason, and that can be annoying, or so I’ve read and heard. But I do agree with Judy’s parents that Judy should have let her husband continue his schooling so he could become an engineer, for an engineering job is reliable and high-paying. There is a time and a place to be open to the experience and wisdom of others, and to sacrifice one’s own immediate desires and happiness for a long-term goal that is better for everyone in the long-run.

3. In Chapter 39, Randall Flagg frees Lloyd from jail. And, on page 367, Flagg quotes the Bible. Flagg knows that Lloyd resents the powers-that-be, which have authority over Lloyd’s life (i.e., how long he stays in jail, how safe he will be in jail, whether or not he will be executed, etc.), and Flagg states: “You know what the Bible says about people like that?…It says the exalted shall be abased and the mighty shall be brought low and the stiffnecked shall be broken. And you know what it says about people like you, Lloyd? It says blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. And it says blessed are the poor in spirit, for they shall see God.”

Technically-speaking, Flagg’s application of those passages is off-base. Lloyd was not meek, for he was a killer. And society had an obligation to punish his murder of people. As Romans 13:3 says (in the NIV): “For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the one in authority? Then do what is right and you will be commended.”

But Lloyd’s feelings of powerlessness and victimhood before people who were on a power-trip are understandable. And there are plenty of people who have not committed crimes, yet they feel that they are victims of authority. I think of the poor, the vulnerable, etc. The biblical passages that Flagg cites speak to that issue. I’d like to think that God cares for them, but also for those who have found themselves on the wrong path and committing crimes, since, in my opinion, the Bible and the religions built on it are about redemption and a second chance.

Flagg quotes the Bible. That may look surprising. I remember watching the movie The Devil’s Advocate, in which Al Pacino plays the devil, and I was surprised that the devil and his demons were not afraid when a lady read the Bible aloud, that the devil went to church and knew his Bible well, etc. I guess I had a notion that the devil and demons would be running scared from the Bible, which was why I looked to the Bible for refuge. Actually, they may not be afraid of it. The devil quotes Scripture when he tempts Jesus in Matthew 4 and Luke 4. But what causes the devil to flee is that Jesus, on the basis of his own understanding of the Bible, refuses to obey or listen to the devil, so the devil decides not to beat a dead horse.

Of course, I can’t exactly castigate Lloyd for accepting Flagg’s misinterpretation of Scripture, for Flagg was telling Lloyd what he wanted to hear, in light of Lloyd’s self-pity, resentment, etc. But where Lloyd fell short was that he refused to take responsibility for his own actions—to identify where he was at fault. I think that it’s good for me to accept interpretations of Scripture that build me up rather than tearing me down, but there should also be an important place for moral inventory.

Questions Sparked by the Lord's Supper Liturgy

For my write-up today on this morning’s church service that I attended, I’ll comment on something from the Lord’s supper liturgy:

“You stilled chaos, Compassionate God, so creation could burst forth in joyous song. You planted lush carpets of grace where we could rest; You planted pools with the waters of peace; You showed us the hiking paths through Eden’s gardens. But we chose to devote ourselves to that skimpy existence offered by the world, playing in the revolving door of sin and death. Prophets listened to your heart breaking, and called us back to fellowship with You, but we ignored their hopes. When you could no longer stomach our disobedience, You sent Jesus to re-open the door to the kingdom.”

This brings four issues to my mind:

1. According to the liturgy, God stilled chaos, and creation burst forth. Is this going with the view that God did not create everything ex nihilo, but rather organized pre-existent chaotic material into an organized cosmos? Or is it saying that God created chaos (or, as Genesis 1 calls it, tohu va-vohu) out of nothing, then fashioned that into the cosmos?

2. The part about Eden and sin brought to my mind a discussion that I read today, in which a Christian was saying that the Adam and Eve story in Genesis 2-3 was not historical, but rather a story about the timeless truth about how many of us look to things other than God to satisfy ourselves. Adam and Eve sought divinity and wisdom for themselves rather than resting content in God’s love and provision. I’m cool with the biblical stories being about spirituality rather than history, at least when it comes to how I apply them. I wouldn’t say that they were originally written to be a-historical, however, for their authors may have very well believed that they were writing what actually happened in the past, whether they were right or wrong in their account.

Many conservative Christians would have problems with dismissing the historicity of Adam and Eve, for Romans 5 presents Jesus reversing the sin and death that Adam brought into the world. What did Jesus correct, if there were no Adam who originally sinned? Could one legitimately suggest that Jesus sought to redress the sin that each one of us has—the alienation from God of each of us? If so, how? By dying and rising again to wash away our sins? By creating us anew? By melting our hearts as he showed us how much he loves us?

3. The liturgy echoes the sermon, in which the pastor talked about how only God can satisfy us. But, if only God can satisfy us, why do so few people look to God, but to other people and things instead? The pastor referred to spiritually dead people whose appetite for God has significantly decreased. I thought about whether or not I fit that category, since there are times in my life when I am numb to things—what people think about me, certain religious or political issues, etc. I’d say that I’ve long had a spiritual hunger that was not always satisfied by things such as the Bible, or church, etc. Nowadays, I don’t look for an emotional and spiritual thrill, or high, as nice as that may be. I have a quieter faith, the sort that looks for wisdom in things that I read and hear.

4. The part of the liturgy about the prophets and Christ stood out to me. Did God send Christ because the people did not repent in response to the preaching of the prophets? Could they have had a relationship with God apart from Christ, had they repented? If people did not respond to the preaching of the prophets, why would Christ’s invitation change their minds? Was Christ necessary to change people so that they actually could repent, implying that they could not truly repent—in a genuine and lasting manner—before he came?

Pro-Rome, Esotericism, Challenge

I have three items from my reading today of Louis Feldman's Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World:

1. A topic that Feldman discusses on pages 102-106 is the ambivalent attitude of Jews towards the Romans, at least in rabbinic literature. Rome was Esau, the brother of Jacob, and Esau deserved praise for his devotion to his family and sympathy because Jacob took his blessing from him (Avoth de-Rabbi Nathan Version B 47.130; Genesis Rabbah 65.16-27, 67.5-7, 80.14). The fourth century Rabbi Yudan says that the fatherless Romulus and Remus were nurtured by wolves as children, under the direction of God (Midrash Psalms 10.6; Esther Rabbah 3.5). And yet, notwithstanding these positive attitudes towards Rome, there were Jewish revolts against the Romans.

2. On pages 127-129, Feldman talks about a rabbinic prohibition on teaching Torah to a non-Jew (B.T. Chagigah 13a, Sanhedrin 59a). Feldman says this may relate to a view that Judaism was like an esoteric mystery religion (Philo, De Somnis 1.26.164, De Sacrificiis Abelis at Caini 16.62). The second century C.E. Roman poet Juvenal mocks the Jews for (in Feldman's words) "not showing the way or a fountain spring to any but fellow Jews" (Satire 12.103-104), and the first-second centuries C.E. Greek thinker Plutarch refers to Jews' secret rites, in Quaestiones Convivales 4.6.1.671C).

3. On page 175, Feldman states: "...to the intelligentsia it is precisely the unwillingness of Jews to engage in meaningful dialogue with other religious groups on a plane of equality---a sine qua non for the intellectual who welcomes debate---and to be able to adopt another point of view if it can be shown to be superior to their own attitude that proved that the Jews were illiberal, unscholarly obscurantists."

I can't say if the intelligentsia was being fair in its characterization, but I know that I myself often prefer to hold on to my own beliefs rather than to subject them to critique and analysis. This subject overlaps with the September 22 devotional in Our Daily Bread:

"Dr. Jack Mezirow, professor emeritus at Columbia Teachers College, believes that an essential element in adult learning is to challenge our own ingrained perceptions and examine our insights critically. Dr. Mezirow says that adults learn best when faced with what he calls a 'disorienting dilemma'---something that 'helps you critically reflect on the assumptions you've acquired' (Barbara Strauch, The New York Times). This is the opposite of saying, 'My mind is made up---don't confuse me with the facts.'" The devotional then talks about how Jesus challenged the assumptions of his day, by healing on the Sabbath, for example. This is relevant also to the Bible study I'm attending at my church, for Tim Keller argues in the book that we're reading that Jesus' parable about the prodigal son challenged what was expected in that time. For instance, the father in Jesus' parable humiliates himself to love his son, whereas the culture in those days expected fathers to uphold their own dignity.

I have found that I have learned when I have been challenged. Sometimes, I have felt bruised by the challenge, but I have still learned. That doesn't stop me from avoiding some challenges, though.

Introducing Glenn Bateman

Last night, I read Chapter 37 of Stephen King’s The Stand: The Complete and Uncut Edition. In that chapter, we are introduced to Glenn Bateman, the crusty sociology professor.

Glenn reminded me of my initial impressions of Harold Lauder (see here and here): Glenn was an outcast among his colleagues, he was cynical about people and institutions, and he really did not care when most of humanity died of the superflu, for now he had an opportunity to retire and paint (which he admits he’s not good at, but he notes that at least now he’s one of the best painters, since many of them are now gone). But Glenn has good points, such as his hospitality towards Stu. For some reason, I actually like Glenn, whereas I didn’t initially care much for Harold. Some of what I like may be Glenn’s crusty wit. For example, Glenn has a dog named Kojak, and he wonders if other dogs have survived the superflu. When Stu replies that, if Kojak is alive, other dogs are too, Glenn retorts: “Not very scientific…What kind of an American are you? Show me a second dog—preferably a bitch—and I’ll accept your thesis that somewhere there is a third. But don’t show me one and from that posit a second. It won’t do.” I got a laugh out of that! And I doubt that Stu took it as a put-down.

I’ve said that I prefer Harold Lauder in the miniseries to Harold Lauder in the book. In the case of Glenn Bateman, I think they’re both the same. Ray Walston was an excellent choice to play him!

Psalm 44

For my weekly quiet time this week, I will blog about Psalm 44. Psalm 44 is about Israel looking back to the days when God drove out the Canaanites and planted the Israelites in the land (a story that the Israelites have heard from their fathers), and she wants God to deliver her from her enemies in the present---so that, with God's help, she can tread down those her afflict her. Israel laments that God does not go out with her armies and that Israelites are being taken as captives to other lands (and they are sold cheaply, at that), and she does not feel that she deserves this, for she has neither forgotten God, nor worshiped another god. She says that God will search out if she has does wrong, for God knows the heart's secrets.

Peter Craigie and Sigmund Mowinckel argue that this Psalm was pre-exilic and was used after the Israelites had lost a battle with a foreign enemy, resulting in the deportation of some Israelites to foreign lands. Others have dated the Psalm to Israel's post-exilic---even Hasmonean---period, and there is a tradition in Babylonian Talmud Baba Sota 48a that part of Psalm 44 was utilized in the daily morning prayer during the time of the Maccabees. I agree that Psalm 44 is asking God to help the Israelites in battle, which implies that Israel has a land and an army. But I thought that some of orthodox rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch's applications of this Psalm to Israel's long period of exile were powerful. Hirsch learns from v 11 (in which the Israelites are likened to sheep appointed to meat) that there are times when murdering a Jew is considered to be no worse than killing a sheep, and Jews in those situations have had to move elsewhere. Regarding v 7, Hirsch affirms that the Jews' survival in exile, notwithstanding their oppressors' desire to eradicate them, is due to God's salvation. That reminds me of Paul's application of v 22 of this Psalm in Romans 8:36: that, even if God's people are slaughtered, that does not separate them from the love of God in Jesus Christ.

Psalm 44:21 is odd because it says that God will search out if Israel has worshiped other gods, for God knows the secrets of the heart. But, if God already knows the secrets of the heart, why does God need to search them out? Augustine says that God searches out our hearts to cause us to know what is in them, and that is how Augustine interprets Genesis 22:12, in which God says that he now knows that Abraham fears God, on account of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son, Isaac. For Augustine, God already knew that Abraham feared him, but he was using the akedah to cause Abraham to know it. I am skeptical about this interpretation because it does not strike me as faithful to the text. Perhaps Psalm 44:21 means that the Israelites are inviting God to search their hearts because they know that God has the ability to do so, since God can read minds.

Another interesting verse is Psalm 44:18, which the KJV translates: "Our heart is not turned back, neither have our steps declined from thy way". In the Hebrew, there is no word for "neither" before "have our steps declined from thy way". The translators of the KJV, and other English translations, may think that the only "lo" ("not") in the verse applies to both clauses, but the LXX and the Targum for the Psalms do not assume this, for they view the verse as saying that Israel's heart is not turned back, yet her steps have declined from God's way. Their idea may be that God hasn't given Israel a smooth path, even though she has been loyal to him, or that God is encouraging Israel to sin by not honoring her obedience to him and by abandoning her to her enemies.

In my opinion, this Psalm is valuable because it is rooted in real life, in which we may feel that we're doing the right thing, and yet things are still going badly for us. In those times, we, like Israel, can cry out to God. Whether or not others value us, there is at least hope that God does.

Jewish Eschatology: The Messiah's Timing

I started Louis Feldman's Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World. I have two items, which pertain to Jewish eschatology:

1. On page 26, Feldman states: "...we may note a Persian parallel to the motif that there will be six thousand years from the beginning of time to the final judgment of humanity by fire, and its Talmudic counterpart (Sanhedrin 97a-b), which quotes the Tanna de-vei Eliyahu as declaring that the world is to exist for six thousand years, the last two thousand of which will be the Messianic era; and this, according to tradition, will culminate in the Last Judgment."

I checked Babylonian Talmud Sanhedrin 97a-b, and there is actually a difference of opinion. One view is that the Messiah will come unexpectedly. Another idea is that he will come after the six thousand years of the world's existence, and that he could have come sooner, had it not been for "our many iniquities." According to this opinion, the Messianic era will last for two thousand years. Still another view is that those two thousand years will be a time of desolation, when the LORD alone will be exalted.

There are parallels between some of these ideas in the Talmud and the New Testament. Matthew 24:42 says that one should watch, because he does not know when his Lord will come. Revelation 20:4 talks about a Messianic era that will last for a thousand years. There is debate among Christians about whether or not we are in the millennium now. Some argue that we are currently in a Messianic age in which Christ rules and Satan is limited, meaning we're currently in the millennium (which is not a literal thousand years) that will precede the last judgment. Others contend, however, that Satan is still deceiving people, which is not supposed to be happening during the millennium (Revelation 20:3), showing that the millennium is still future.

I do think that there is a sense in which New Testament passages maintain that we are in a Messianic era, and that things that the prophets predicted about the Messianic era (or, if you will, prophecies that interpreters applied to that) were being fulfilled in Jesus Christ. W.D. Davies, in his essay about Paul in The Cambridge History of Judaism, Volume Three: The Early Roman Period, says that Paul was trying to fulfill the Hebrew Bible's prophecies about the Gentiles' worship of God under the Messiah. This makes sense, for Paul in Romans 15:12 quotes Isaiah 11:10, which concerns the reign of the root of Jesse, in whom the Gentiles will hope. Paul appeals to that verse to show his audience that God has welcomed the Gentiles. Was Paul saying that his time was the Messianic era in which the Gentiles would be included?

2. On page 98, Feldman talks about expectations among Jews and others that a Messiah would arise in the first century C.E. Josephus, in Jewish War 6.312-313, says that the Jews revolted against the Romans in 66 C.E. because an oracle in their Scriptures predicted that, at that time, someone from their country would assume rulership of the world. Tacitus, in Histories 5.13.2, says that Jewish ancient priestly writings said that, in the year 66, the East would increase in strength and men from Judea would take control of the world. Suetonius says the same sort of thing in Vespasian 4.5. These three people applied the prophecy to the emperor of Rome. Josephus, for example, notes that Vespasian assumed imperial authority while he was on Jewish land.

I talked about some of this in my post, Matthew 2:1-2: The Magi, in which I asked why the magi visited Jesus: "Why did the wise men (or magi) care about a newborn king in Judea, a subservient nation that lacked political power and prestige?" One solution I found was that the Magi believed that a ruler would come out of Judea, and so they wanted to honor him.

I also thought of Martin Luther's argument that Jesus was the Messiah because Daniel 9 says that the Messiah would come in the first century (according to him and many Christians), and Luther states that even first century Jews believed that. For Luther, either the Messiah came in the first century, or he is not coming, and so Jews are wrong to wait for a future Messiah; rather, Luther thinks they should embrace the Messiah who came, Jesus Christ. I wonder if Daniel 2 has something to do with Jews' dating the Messiah to the first century: if the fourth kingdom was understood as Rome, then the Messiah would overthrow Rome.