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Roberta Kells Dorr. Abraham and Sarah. Chicago: Moody Publishers, 1995, 2014. See here for Moody’s page about the book.
Abraham and Sarah is Roberta Kells Dorr’s telling of the
story of Abraham, from Abraham’s time in Ur to the funeral of his wife
and half-sister, Sarah. Dorr draws from the Book of Genesis, Jewish
legend (i.e., the story of Abram smashing his father’s idols and blaming
one of the idols), history, and her own imagination.
I did not fact-check every single historical detail in this book, so I
do not know how many anachronisms it contains. I was impressed,
however, because Dorr did seem to do some homework in writing this
book. She sets Abram’s departure from Ur and his time in Egypt in the
early second millennium B.C.E. In her story, Abram leaves Ur during the
reign of Ibbi-Suen, which is when Elamites invade, and Abram is in
Egypt during the reign of Pharaoh Amenemhet, a vizier who had ascended
to the throne, and who was said to convey teachings to his son. In the
early second millennium B.C.E., Ibbi-Sin did rule Ur when the Elamites
raided, and there was an Egyptian ruler, Amenemhat I, who was a former
vizier and who was said to teach his son certain principles.
Notwithstanding what Dorr’s story says, I doubt that Amenemhat I’s
saying of “Trust no foreigner” was related to an experience that he had
with Abram. Still, the times that Dorr paid attention to historical
detail definitely appealed to me. Moreover, while there are scholars
and archaeologists who will disagree with her placing camels in the time
of Abram, I was pleased that she at least addressed the issue: she said
that domesticated camels were present in some areas but not others.
The best parts of the book, in my opinion, were Dorr’s depictions of
Abram’s interaction with other religions, and the questions that
entailed. Are idols lifeless pieces of clay, or do they contain magical
properties? If Abraham is right and other religions are wrong, why do
idol-worshipers seem to get their prayers answered, whereas Abram’s wife
Sarai still has not conceived a child? Sometimes, Abram is rather
arrogant in his attitude towards other religions; at other times,
specifically in his interactions with Egyptians, he is sincerely
interested in what they have to say. In addition, to my surprise, Dorr
depicts Abram occasionally looking for meaning in the stars. Dorr never
calls that astrology, though.
Dorr’s characterization was also strong. Hagar, the Egyptian who
would become Sarah’s maidservant, is depicted as a daughter of the
Pharaoh who offended pompous Egyptians’ decorum. Sarah was a bit of a
complainer at times, but I could identify with her, on some level: here
Abram is, saying a god wants them to do something, and she has practical
questions about that, especially when the god seems to take his time
coming through for them (though he often does come through,
eventually!). Dorr also adds characters who are not in the Bible: Urim
the cheesemaker, his wife Safra, and his Egyptian concubine Warda, all
of whom love each other as family. There were times when Urim’s
presence raised questions in my mind—-if Urim and his family were in
Sodom, and Lot and his family were in Sodom, would that amount to ten
righteous people, the minimum number that would dissuade God from
destroying the city? Dorr also said (from Abraham’s perspective) that
Urim was a simple man with a lot of common sense, even though Urim had
some of the best insights in the book! I had other questions about the
characters—-how can Ishmael be so friendly, when Genesis 16:12 appears
to say that he will be a wild contentious man? Still, I loved the
characters, and I enjoyed following their journeys of wrestling with
faith, learning, finding friendship, losing friendships, growing, and
finding it in their hearts to forgive.
I would like to thank Moody Publishers for sending me a review copy of this book.
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Book Write-Up: Cowgirl Trail, by Susan Page Davis
Susan Page Davis. Cowgirl Trail. Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2012. See here for Moody’s page about the book.
Cowgirl Trail, by Susan Page Davis, is part of the Texas Trails series, also known as the Morgan Family Series. This series focuses on the Morgan family in nineteenth century Texas. Cowgirl Trail is about Maggie Porter, who is not part of the Morgan family (until she marries into it at the end of the book, that is). But Alex Bright, a central character in Cowgirl Trail, is part of the Morgan family. He is the son of Ned Bright and Billie Morgan, whom we meet in Captive Trail, also by Susan Page Davis.
In Cowgirl Trail, Maggie Porter comes back to her father’s ranch, and the workers there are not happy. Mr. Porter used to keep up the quarters and let his men take some of the stock, but he does not do that anymore, nor does he agree to give them a raise. When one of Mr. Porter’s men is injured on the job, and Mr. Porter seems to greet that with callous indifference, that is the last straw for these men. They go on strike. Unbeknownst to them, however, is the fact that Mr. Porter is dying of cancer, and this, coupled with his medical bills for his late wife, are wiping him out financially. His daughter Maggie decides to rally some women to take the cattle to market, which is a long journey. On the way, the women contend with outlaws and bullies. In addition, some of Mr. Porter’s striking workers try to disrupt the women’s cattle drive, while others among the strikers (including Alex Bright) actually look out for the women.
Cowgirl Trail is a good story about misunderstanding people’s motives and not knowing the full story, one reason being that people may choose not to share the full story, for a variety of reasons. Cowgirl Trail is similar to Susan Page Davis’ Captive Trail in a couple of respects. First, both focus on a few plot elements. Captive Trail was about the attempts to communicate with Billie Morgan, who had been captured by the Comanche, and Cowgirl Trail focused largely on the women’s cattle drive. Some may prefer stories that focus on more plot elements, but I actually enjoyed Davis’ strategy, for it drew me more into the plot and the characters. Sometimes, it’s good for readers to slow down a bit and appreciate what is going on, and Davis’ strategy allowed me to do that, without sacrificing suspense. Second, Captive Trail and Cowgirl Trail did not seem to me to have as much of a religious or devotional element as other books of the Texas Trails series. Cowgirl Trail had a scene in which Maggie was contemplating a verse from Psalm 119, but I wish that Davis had carried the scene further by addressing how God’s law related to Maggie’s struggles. Then again, not every quiet time with God is neat and tidy, and perhaps Davis did well to capture that.
Overall, I enjoyed this book.
I would like to thank Moody Publishers for sending me a review copy of this book.
Cowgirl Trail, by Susan Page Davis, is part of the Texas Trails series, also known as the Morgan Family Series. This series focuses on the Morgan family in nineteenth century Texas. Cowgirl Trail is about Maggie Porter, who is not part of the Morgan family (until she marries into it at the end of the book, that is). But Alex Bright, a central character in Cowgirl Trail, is part of the Morgan family. He is the son of Ned Bright and Billie Morgan, whom we meet in Captive Trail, also by Susan Page Davis.
In Cowgirl Trail, Maggie Porter comes back to her father’s ranch, and the workers there are not happy. Mr. Porter used to keep up the quarters and let his men take some of the stock, but he does not do that anymore, nor does he agree to give them a raise. When one of Mr. Porter’s men is injured on the job, and Mr. Porter seems to greet that with callous indifference, that is the last straw for these men. They go on strike. Unbeknownst to them, however, is the fact that Mr. Porter is dying of cancer, and this, coupled with his medical bills for his late wife, are wiping him out financially. His daughter Maggie decides to rally some women to take the cattle to market, which is a long journey. On the way, the women contend with outlaws and bullies. In addition, some of Mr. Porter’s striking workers try to disrupt the women’s cattle drive, while others among the strikers (including Alex Bright) actually look out for the women.
Cowgirl Trail is a good story about misunderstanding people’s motives and not knowing the full story, one reason being that people may choose not to share the full story, for a variety of reasons. Cowgirl Trail is similar to Susan Page Davis’ Captive Trail in a couple of respects. First, both focus on a few plot elements. Captive Trail was about the attempts to communicate with Billie Morgan, who had been captured by the Comanche, and Cowgirl Trail focused largely on the women’s cattle drive. Some may prefer stories that focus on more plot elements, but I actually enjoyed Davis’ strategy, for it drew me more into the plot and the characters. Sometimes, it’s good for readers to slow down a bit and appreciate what is going on, and Davis’ strategy allowed me to do that, without sacrificing suspense. Second, Captive Trail and Cowgirl Trail did not seem to me to have as much of a religious or devotional element as other books of the Texas Trails series. Cowgirl Trail had a scene in which Maggie was contemplating a verse from Psalm 119, but I wish that Davis had carried the scene further by addressing how God’s law related to Maggie’s struggles. Then again, not every quiet time with God is neat and tidy, and perhaps Davis did well to capture that.
Overall, I enjoyed this book.
I would like to thank Moody Publishers for sending me a review copy of this book.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Book Write-Up: Language for God in Patristic Tradition
Mark Sheridan. Language for God in Patristic Tradition: Wrestling with Biblical Anthropomorphism. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2015.
Among church fathers, particularly those adhering to the Alexandrian tradition of biblical interpretation, there was a sense that the Bible contained deeper, allegorical, and symbolic meaning, which was pertinent to living the Christian life. They often accepted the literal or historical sense of the biblical text, but there were also cases in which they rejected it. A significant reason for their approach is that they believed that the surface, literal meaning was either insignificant or unworthy of God. They did not think that God was subject to the sorts of passions that afflicted humans, such as anger, or that God changed his mind, so they did not interpret biblical passages in which God was angry or changed his mind literally. When some church fathers read stories about battles in the Hebrew Bible, they believed that the stories had to be about something more significant than battles, and so, even if they accepted that the battles were historical, they thought that they related to the spiritual battles of Christians to subdue their own sinful passions. In some cases, church fathers did not necessarily seek a deeper meaning to the text, but rather offered alternative interpretations that were rather literal. When the Psalmist displayed a vengeful attitude regarding his enemies, there were church fathers who were troubled by that because it seemed to contradict Jesus’ command to love one’s enemies, so one approach they took was to say that the Psalmist was predicting his enemies’ downfall, not hoping for it.
Mark Sheridan discusses such issues in Language for God in Patristic Tradition. While this book is primarily about patristic interpretation, Sheridan also looks extensively at interpretative approaches that were prior to the church fathers: ancient pagan exegesis, which sought deeper meaning in Homer because the surface narrative seemed to portray the gods in an unworthy manner; Philo of Alexandria, who believed that there was deeper spiritual and philosophical meaning in the laws and stories of the Hebrew Bible; and the New Testament, which affirmed some traditions of the Hebrew Bible over others, maintained that the Old Testament was “for us” (Christians), and claimed to identify deeper Christian meaning in the Old Testament.
Sheridan quotes from the church fathers, and he also compares and contrasts ancient exegesis with modern interpretative methods, such as the historical-critical method, and also the attempts by evangelical scholars to defend the God of the Old Testament. In discussing patristic attempts to interpret the creation story in Genesis 1-2, Sheridan refers to the issues that the church fathers were confronting at the time, particularly the belief that Genesis 1-2 was overly mythical; that differs from the issues that surround discussions of Genesis 1-2 today, such as evolution. In talking about the biblical Conquest stories and revenge in the Psalms, Sheridan mentions various approaches that the church fathers take to that issue—-allegorizing the passages to refer to a spiritual struggle, or simply saying that things are now done differently under the New Covenant—-and, in some cases, Sheridan prefers patristic solutions to certain evangelical scholars’ defenses of God.
The book is valuable, not only on account of its extensive information, its edifying quotations of the church fathers and other ancient interpreters, and its helpful glossary of significant figures in the back, but also because it explores why church fathers believed that the Bible was as it was. One can ask: If the Bible is symbolic or figurative, or not to be taken literally in areas, is not God, as the one inspiring the Bible, being deceptive? Why would the Bible say that God is angry, if God does not actually get angry? Sheridan refers to a variety of answers that church fathers gave: that God had to portray himself as human-like so that humans could relate to him; that God did so for the ignorant; or that God was aiming to get a certain spiritual response from people. God may portray himself as changing in response to human behavior, for example, to encourage humans to forsake sin and pursue righteousness. For the church fathers, Christians can still appreciate that there is deeper meaning to the text, or that its surface meaning is not always literally accurate.
Sheridan also discussed the Antioch tradition, which was more focused on what it considered to be the literal and historical meaning of the biblical text. I was not entirely satisfied with what Sheridan described as an Antiochian approach to Galatians 4:24, where Paul uses allegory. In Galatians 4, Paul is arguing that Hagar and Sarah are allegories for the system of law and the system of grace, respectively. How did Antiochians, who shied away from such a symbolic approach to the Bible, explain Paul’s method here? Sheridan quotes an Antiochian interpreter who says that Paul was using typology, not allegory: that Sarah and Hagar were real people, but that they also were types of God’s Old and New Covenants. I did not entirely understand how the Antiochians differed from the allegorists, for even many of the allegorists did not dismiss the literal, historical existence of Sarah and Hagar. Both sides seemed to believe that Sarah and Hagar were real historical people, but that they also symbolized other realities. My problem may not be with Sheridan here, but rather with the Antiochians themselves.
This is an excellent book, and I recommend it to those who want to learn more about ancient interpretation, including graduate students who plan to take a comprehensive examination in the subject (as I did five years ago).
My thanks for Intervarsity Press for sending me a complimentary review copy of this book.
Among church fathers, particularly those adhering to the Alexandrian tradition of biblical interpretation, there was a sense that the Bible contained deeper, allegorical, and symbolic meaning, which was pertinent to living the Christian life. They often accepted the literal or historical sense of the biblical text, but there were also cases in which they rejected it. A significant reason for their approach is that they believed that the surface, literal meaning was either insignificant or unworthy of God. They did not think that God was subject to the sorts of passions that afflicted humans, such as anger, or that God changed his mind, so they did not interpret biblical passages in which God was angry or changed his mind literally. When some church fathers read stories about battles in the Hebrew Bible, they believed that the stories had to be about something more significant than battles, and so, even if they accepted that the battles were historical, they thought that they related to the spiritual battles of Christians to subdue their own sinful passions. In some cases, church fathers did not necessarily seek a deeper meaning to the text, but rather offered alternative interpretations that were rather literal. When the Psalmist displayed a vengeful attitude regarding his enemies, there were church fathers who were troubled by that because it seemed to contradict Jesus’ command to love one’s enemies, so one approach they took was to say that the Psalmist was predicting his enemies’ downfall, not hoping for it.
Mark Sheridan discusses such issues in Language for God in Patristic Tradition. While this book is primarily about patristic interpretation, Sheridan also looks extensively at interpretative approaches that were prior to the church fathers: ancient pagan exegesis, which sought deeper meaning in Homer because the surface narrative seemed to portray the gods in an unworthy manner; Philo of Alexandria, who believed that there was deeper spiritual and philosophical meaning in the laws and stories of the Hebrew Bible; and the New Testament, which affirmed some traditions of the Hebrew Bible over others, maintained that the Old Testament was “for us” (Christians), and claimed to identify deeper Christian meaning in the Old Testament.
Sheridan quotes from the church fathers, and he also compares and contrasts ancient exegesis with modern interpretative methods, such as the historical-critical method, and also the attempts by evangelical scholars to defend the God of the Old Testament. In discussing patristic attempts to interpret the creation story in Genesis 1-2, Sheridan refers to the issues that the church fathers were confronting at the time, particularly the belief that Genesis 1-2 was overly mythical; that differs from the issues that surround discussions of Genesis 1-2 today, such as evolution. In talking about the biblical Conquest stories and revenge in the Psalms, Sheridan mentions various approaches that the church fathers take to that issue—-allegorizing the passages to refer to a spiritual struggle, or simply saying that things are now done differently under the New Covenant—-and, in some cases, Sheridan prefers patristic solutions to certain evangelical scholars’ defenses of God.
The book is valuable, not only on account of its extensive information, its edifying quotations of the church fathers and other ancient interpreters, and its helpful glossary of significant figures in the back, but also because it explores why church fathers believed that the Bible was as it was. One can ask: If the Bible is symbolic or figurative, or not to be taken literally in areas, is not God, as the one inspiring the Bible, being deceptive? Why would the Bible say that God is angry, if God does not actually get angry? Sheridan refers to a variety of answers that church fathers gave: that God had to portray himself as human-like so that humans could relate to him; that God did so for the ignorant; or that God was aiming to get a certain spiritual response from people. God may portray himself as changing in response to human behavior, for example, to encourage humans to forsake sin and pursue righteousness. For the church fathers, Christians can still appreciate that there is deeper meaning to the text, or that its surface meaning is not always literally accurate.
Sheridan also discussed the Antioch tradition, which was more focused on what it considered to be the literal and historical meaning of the biblical text. I was not entirely satisfied with what Sheridan described as an Antiochian approach to Galatians 4:24, where Paul uses allegory. In Galatians 4, Paul is arguing that Hagar and Sarah are allegories for the system of law and the system of grace, respectively. How did Antiochians, who shied away from such a symbolic approach to the Bible, explain Paul’s method here? Sheridan quotes an Antiochian interpreter who says that Paul was using typology, not allegory: that Sarah and Hagar were real people, but that they also were types of God’s Old and New Covenants. I did not entirely understand how the Antiochians differed from the allegorists, for even many of the allegorists did not dismiss the literal, historical existence of Sarah and Hagar. Both sides seemed to believe that Sarah and Hagar were real historical people, but that they also symbolized other realities. My problem may not be with Sheridan here, but rather with the Antiochians themselves.
This is an excellent book, and I recommend it to those who want to learn more about ancient interpretation, including graduate students who plan to take a comprehensive examination in the subject (as I did five years ago).
My thanks for Intervarsity Press for sending me a complimentary review copy of this book.
Monday, January 5, 2015
Book Write-Up: Ordinary, by Tony Merida
Tony Merida. Ordinary: How to Turn the World Upside Down. Nashville: B&H Publishing Group, 2015. See here to buy the book.
Tony Merida pastors Imago Dei church in Raleigh, North Carolina. The back cover of the book states that “Tony Merida wants to push back against sensationalism and ‘rock star Christianity,’ and help people understand that they can make a powerful impact by practicing ordinary Christianity.” Ordinary Christianity includes love of neighbor, hospitality, caring for orphans, and using one’s voice against injustice.
Here are some thoughts about the book:
1. The Gospel of God’s grace is significant in Merida’s book. For Merida, if Christians believe that God accepts them and that Christ died for their sins when they were weak, they will be brave and humble in the pursuit of justice and able to identify more with the vulnerable. Merida makes a case that Jesus in some of the Gospels teaches that human beings are unable to obey God’s law fully (including the law of loving their neighbor) and thus need God’s grace. These parts of the book are interesting and worth the read, even if one concludes that Merida unsuccessfully attempts to reconcile the Jesus of the synoptic Gospels with Martin Luther’s version of Paul (though Merida does not mention Luther). In addition, appealing to the Book of James, Merida states that the evidence of Christian faith is good works. In my opinion, that sort of attitude can make Christians insecure about their salvation, as they wonder if they are doing enough good works, or they try to do more good works to convince themselves that they are truly saved. That seems to me to run contrary to the sort of security that Merida thinks Christians should have.
2. My reaction to Merida’s comments on hospitality and orphan care are mixed. Merida does well to note that the care of widows, orphans, and the poor is a significant theme in the New Testament and to refer to organizations that readers can contact if they are interested in helping. Moreover, in discussing hospitality, Merida refers to a couple of introverts who have written about the subject, and he says that hospitality does not mean being the life of the party. That resonated with me, as an introvert. I think that Merida should have expanded on that, however, and I often felt in reading the section about orphan care that I needed to sign up for a bunch of causes in order to please God. Merida also said that raising orphans can be difficult and challenging, and my thought in reading that was, “But I don’t want to adopt anyone in the first place!” I felt as if I were being pressured to do something I did not want to do, then being warned that the task would be difficult. Still, what I got from Merida’s discussions on orphan care is that people should do at least something: they should be concerned about orphans, and they should take practical steps to make orphans’ lives easier, even if they choose not to adopt or provide foster care. I agree with that.
3. I was impressed with what Merida said about the International Justice Mission. The International Justice Mission addresses human-trafficking and seeks to help people in the Third World who have been unjustly treated and struggle to get justice from the authorities. The IJM not only gives a voice to people who struggle to be heard, but it also emphasizes and practices prayer, and it offers advice on how people can help others smartly. When Merida wrote about towns where he saw the effects of human-trafficking, for example, the IJM helped him revise what he wrote so that he did not identify and reveal the locations of the towns, since that could attract predators to them. Merida’s discussions about the IJM overlapped with key themes of his book: social action being accompanied by prayer and Christian devotion, and the importance of conducting social action intelligently.
4. I appreciated something that Merida said on page 12 because that made the rest of Merida’s book look reasonable to me: “If we believe that everyone is made in the image of God, then everyone is worthy of dignity, love, basic human rights, and hearing biblical truth.” There were times when I was reading Merida’s book and wondering, “Why bring preaching into this? Just help people!” Merida was criticizing both the tendency to emphasize preaching at the expense of social action, and social action at the expense of sharing the Gospel, and I tended to lean towards the latter. Merida offered a defense of sharing the Gospel, but what he said on page 12 especially resonated with me. I do believe that people have the right to hear the Gospel. Whether or not they accept it is up to them.
5. Merida argues that the Exodus demonstrates that God wants justice for all nations. Against those who argue that God at the Exodus liberated Israel and that this is irrelevant to other nations, Merida points to Isaiah 19, where God promises to send Egypt a savior to rescue the Egyptians from oppression. I appreciated Merida addressing this issue, on account of debates about liberation theology and whether the Exodus was a paradigm of justice that was relevant to other oppressed peoples.
6. Merida’s chapter on William Wilberforce, the English politician whose Christian convictions led him to confront the slave trade, was excellent, overall. Merida says that Wilberforce was a small, ordinary man who accomplished great things. I did not care, however, for Merida in that chapter lamenting the “overall feminization of men” (page 107). I agreed with Merida that men should be neither bullies nor cowards, but I wondered why he was focusing on men in that section: Should not women, too, stand up against injustice? Moreover, up to that point, I did not get the impression that the book was written primarily for men; Merida’s wife Kimberly contributes to the book. And why is cowardice in the face of injustice “feminization”? Merida talks about his wife’s work against injustice, so cowardice is obviously not a trait that is inherent to women!
Overall, though, I found this book to be challenging and insightful.
I received this book from the publisher through Cross Focused Reviews in exchange for an honest review.
Tony Merida pastors Imago Dei church in Raleigh, North Carolina. The back cover of the book states that “Tony Merida wants to push back against sensationalism and ‘rock star Christianity,’ and help people understand that they can make a powerful impact by practicing ordinary Christianity.” Ordinary Christianity includes love of neighbor, hospitality, caring for orphans, and using one’s voice against injustice.
Here are some thoughts about the book:
1. The Gospel of God’s grace is significant in Merida’s book. For Merida, if Christians believe that God accepts them and that Christ died for their sins when they were weak, they will be brave and humble in the pursuit of justice and able to identify more with the vulnerable. Merida makes a case that Jesus in some of the Gospels teaches that human beings are unable to obey God’s law fully (including the law of loving their neighbor) and thus need God’s grace. These parts of the book are interesting and worth the read, even if one concludes that Merida unsuccessfully attempts to reconcile the Jesus of the synoptic Gospels with Martin Luther’s version of Paul (though Merida does not mention Luther). In addition, appealing to the Book of James, Merida states that the evidence of Christian faith is good works. In my opinion, that sort of attitude can make Christians insecure about their salvation, as they wonder if they are doing enough good works, or they try to do more good works to convince themselves that they are truly saved. That seems to me to run contrary to the sort of security that Merida thinks Christians should have.
2. My reaction to Merida’s comments on hospitality and orphan care are mixed. Merida does well to note that the care of widows, orphans, and the poor is a significant theme in the New Testament and to refer to organizations that readers can contact if they are interested in helping. Moreover, in discussing hospitality, Merida refers to a couple of introverts who have written about the subject, and he says that hospitality does not mean being the life of the party. That resonated with me, as an introvert. I think that Merida should have expanded on that, however, and I often felt in reading the section about orphan care that I needed to sign up for a bunch of causes in order to please God. Merida also said that raising orphans can be difficult and challenging, and my thought in reading that was, “But I don’t want to adopt anyone in the first place!” I felt as if I were being pressured to do something I did not want to do, then being warned that the task would be difficult. Still, what I got from Merida’s discussions on orphan care is that people should do at least something: they should be concerned about orphans, and they should take practical steps to make orphans’ lives easier, even if they choose not to adopt or provide foster care. I agree with that.
3. I was impressed with what Merida said about the International Justice Mission. The International Justice Mission addresses human-trafficking and seeks to help people in the Third World who have been unjustly treated and struggle to get justice from the authorities. The IJM not only gives a voice to people who struggle to be heard, but it also emphasizes and practices prayer, and it offers advice on how people can help others smartly. When Merida wrote about towns where he saw the effects of human-trafficking, for example, the IJM helped him revise what he wrote so that he did not identify and reveal the locations of the towns, since that could attract predators to them. Merida’s discussions about the IJM overlapped with key themes of his book: social action being accompanied by prayer and Christian devotion, and the importance of conducting social action intelligently.
4. I appreciated something that Merida said on page 12 because that made the rest of Merida’s book look reasonable to me: “If we believe that everyone is made in the image of God, then everyone is worthy of dignity, love, basic human rights, and hearing biblical truth.” There were times when I was reading Merida’s book and wondering, “Why bring preaching into this? Just help people!” Merida was criticizing both the tendency to emphasize preaching at the expense of social action, and social action at the expense of sharing the Gospel, and I tended to lean towards the latter. Merida offered a defense of sharing the Gospel, but what he said on page 12 especially resonated with me. I do believe that people have the right to hear the Gospel. Whether or not they accept it is up to them.
5. Merida argues that the Exodus demonstrates that God wants justice for all nations. Against those who argue that God at the Exodus liberated Israel and that this is irrelevant to other nations, Merida points to Isaiah 19, where God promises to send Egypt a savior to rescue the Egyptians from oppression. I appreciated Merida addressing this issue, on account of debates about liberation theology and whether the Exodus was a paradigm of justice that was relevant to other oppressed peoples.
6. Merida’s chapter on William Wilberforce, the English politician whose Christian convictions led him to confront the slave trade, was excellent, overall. Merida says that Wilberforce was a small, ordinary man who accomplished great things. I did not care, however, for Merida in that chapter lamenting the “overall feminization of men” (page 107). I agreed with Merida that men should be neither bullies nor cowards, but I wondered why he was focusing on men in that section: Should not women, too, stand up against injustice? Moreover, up to that point, I did not get the impression that the book was written primarily for men; Merida’s wife Kimberly contributes to the book. And why is cowardice in the face of injustice “feminization”? Merida talks about his wife’s work against injustice, so cowardice is obviously not a trait that is inherent to women!
Overall, though, I found this book to be challenging and insightful.
I received this book from the publisher through Cross Focused Reviews in exchange for an honest review.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
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.
“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.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
II Chronicles 14
In II Chronicles 14, the Chronicler continues to tell the story of King Asa of Judah.
II Chronicles 14:3-5 states (in the KJV): “For he took away the altars of the strange gods, and the high places, and brake down the images, and cut down the groves: And commanded Judah to seek the LORD God of their fathers, and to do the law and the commandment. Also he took away out of all the cities of Judah the high places and the images: and the kingdom was quiet before him.”
Asa removed the high places (sanctuaries on hills) of Judah. II Chronicles 15:7, however, appears to say something different: “But the high places were not taken away out of Israel: nevertheless the heart of Asa was perfect all his days.”
Scholars have sought to harmonize this apparent contradiction in different ways.
1. One way is to say that Ahaz removed the pagan high places but they came back, and Asa did not remove them then. This is conceivable. Consider a similar apparent contradiction in II Chronicles regarding Asa’s son and successor, King Jehoshaphat. II Chronicles 17:6 affirms that Jehoshaphat removed the high places and groves from Judah, whereas II Chronicles 20:33 states that the high places had not been taken away under Jehoshaphat. II Chronicles 20:33 says that this failure was because “the people had not prepared their hearts unto the God of their fathers” (KJV). Perhaps Asa and Jehoshaphat removed the high places, but people persisted in rebuilding them because their hearts were so attached to idolatry and alienated from God. While some may conclude that the Chronicler blames the people and not the righteous kings for this, the Chronicler does appear to treat it as a blot on the righteous kings’ record, as if they were somehow responsible because they failed to be consistent in spotting and eliminating idolatry.
2. A second way is to say that Asa removed high places that were dedicated to pagan deities, but not the high places that were dedicated to YHWH, the God of Israel. II Chronicles 14:3-5 does focus on paganism right before it mentions Asa removing the high places. Moreover, the Chronicler, like the Deuteronomist before him, believed that Israelites should sacrifice to the LORD at the central sanctuary, which was in Jerusalem, not on the hills, so the Chronicler could conceivably have faulted King Asa for failing to remove the Yahwist high places.
3. Raymond Dillard in the Word Biblical Commentary on II Chronicles refers to the apparent contradiction in II Chronicles over whether Jehoshaphat removed the high places. Dillard mentions the view that the Chronicler believed that Jehoshaphat did remove them but was working with a source, I Kings, which said that under Jehoshaphat the high places were not taken away (see I Kings 22:43). Dillard does go a harmonizing route when it comes to Asa, though, and he states that this is because “it is unlikely that either the author or a later editor would contradict himself in such short compass.” Would an author or editor include a source that said something with which he disagreed? Would that make him neglectful? Or would he be trying to include an alternative perspective in the interests of historiography? I do not know. It does seem that biblical authors and editors included contradictory stories.
4. A fourth way is to say that Asa removed the high places from Judah but not from Israel, meaning the Northern Israelite cities that Judah had captured. II Chronicles 14:5 does say that Asa removed the high places from Judah, whereas II Chronicles 15:7 says that they were not taken away from Israel. The question would be whether “Israel” there specifically means the Northern Kingdom of Israel or could apply to Judah, or, more, to both Judah and Northern Israel. In II Chronicles, “Israel” often means the Northern Kingdom, but it can sometimes pertain to Judah (II Chronicles 19:8).
What’s interesting to me is that, in II Chronicles 17:7-8, King Jehoshaphat is said to send officials, Levites, and priests to teach in Judah, perhaps to teach the Torah. David Rothstein in the Jewish Study Bible deems it significant that the Chronicler says Jehoshaphat sent teachers to Judah while not saying that teachers were sent to Northern Israel, specifically the Northern Israelite cities that Judah had captured. Rothstein speculates that “this may be the author’s way of expressing Judah’s religious superiority.” Is that what is going on with Asa in II Chronicles 14-15: he is removing the high places from Judah but not Northern Israel because he deemed Judah to be religiously superior? Could Asa have considered removing high places from Northern Israel to be an uphill battle because the North was so enmeshed in paganism. Yet, II Chronicles 15:8 affirms that Asa did remove idolatry from the Ephraimite cities that Judah had captured.
I do not think that the Chronicler believed that Judah should obey God whereas the North was not expected to do so, for King Hezekiah in II Chronicles 30 invites the Northerners to come to Judah to observe the Passover; many Northerners laughed him to scorn within the story, however. My impression is that the Chronicler believes that Judahite kings should have encouraged the Northerners to observe Torah and properly worship the God of Israel, even if Asa and Jehoshaphat sometimes had different ideas about this, perhaps out of a sense that Judah was religiously superior, or other reasons. Still, the Chronicler seems to acknowledge that getting the North on the right path was an uphill battle. There were Northerners who left the North and voluntarily dwelt in Judah (II Chronicles 15:9), but many Israelites in Northern Israel could have been resistant to repentance, in the mind of the Chronicler.
II Chronicles 14:3-5 states (in the KJV): “For he took away the altars of the strange gods, and the high places, and brake down the images, and cut down the groves: And commanded Judah to seek the LORD God of their fathers, and to do the law and the commandment. Also he took away out of all the cities of Judah the high places and the images: and the kingdom was quiet before him.”
Asa removed the high places (sanctuaries on hills) of Judah. II Chronicles 15:7, however, appears to say something different: “But the high places were not taken away out of Israel: nevertheless the heart of Asa was perfect all his days.”
Scholars have sought to harmonize this apparent contradiction in different ways.
1. One way is to say that Ahaz removed the pagan high places but they came back, and Asa did not remove them then. This is conceivable. Consider a similar apparent contradiction in II Chronicles regarding Asa’s son and successor, King Jehoshaphat. II Chronicles 17:6 affirms that Jehoshaphat removed the high places and groves from Judah, whereas II Chronicles 20:33 states that the high places had not been taken away under Jehoshaphat. II Chronicles 20:33 says that this failure was because “the people had not prepared their hearts unto the God of their fathers” (KJV). Perhaps Asa and Jehoshaphat removed the high places, but people persisted in rebuilding them because their hearts were so attached to idolatry and alienated from God. While some may conclude that the Chronicler blames the people and not the righteous kings for this, the Chronicler does appear to treat it as a blot on the righteous kings’ record, as if they were somehow responsible because they failed to be consistent in spotting and eliminating idolatry.
2. A second way is to say that Asa removed high places that were dedicated to pagan deities, but not the high places that were dedicated to YHWH, the God of Israel. II Chronicles 14:3-5 does focus on paganism right before it mentions Asa removing the high places. Moreover, the Chronicler, like the Deuteronomist before him, believed that Israelites should sacrifice to the LORD at the central sanctuary, which was in Jerusalem, not on the hills, so the Chronicler could conceivably have faulted King Asa for failing to remove the Yahwist high places.
3. Raymond Dillard in the Word Biblical Commentary on II Chronicles refers to the apparent contradiction in II Chronicles over whether Jehoshaphat removed the high places. Dillard mentions the view that the Chronicler believed that Jehoshaphat did remove them but was working with a source, I Kings, which said that under Jehoshaphat the high places were not taken away (see I Kings 22:43). Dillard does go a harmonizing route when it comes to Asa, though, and he states that this is because “it is unlikely that either the author or a later editor would contradict himself in such short compass.” Would an author or editor include a source that said something with which he disagreed? Would that make him neglectful? Or would he be trying to include an alternative perspective in the interests of historiography? I do not know. It does seem that biblical authors and editors included contradictory stories.
4. A fourth way is to say that Asa removed the high places from Judah but not from Israel, meaning the Northern Israelite cities that Judah had captured. II Chronicles 14:5 does say that Asa removed the high places from Judah, whereas II Chronicles 15:7 says that they were not taken away from Israel. The question would be whether “Israel” there specifically means the Northern Kingdom of Israel or could apply to Judah, or, more, to both Judah and Northern Israel. In II Chronicles, “Israel” often means the Northern Kingdom, but it can sometimes pertain to Judah (II Chronicles 19:8).
What’s interesting to me is that, in II Chronicles 17:7-8, King Jehoshaphat is said to send officials, Levites, and priests to teach in Judah, perhaps to teach the Torah. David Rothstein in the Jewish Study Bible deems it significant that the Chronicler says Jehoshaphat sent teachers to Judah while not saying that teachers were sent to Northern Israel, specifically the Northern Israelite cities that Judah had captured. Rothstein speculates that “this may be the author’s way of expressing Judah’s religious superiority.” Is that what is going on with Asa in II Chronicles 14-15: he is removing the high places from Judah but not Northern Israel because he deemed Judah to be religiously superior? Could Asa have considered removing high places from Northern Israel to be an uphill battle because the North was so enmeshed in paganism. Yet, II Chronicles 15:8 affirms that Asa did remove idolatry from the Ephraimite cities that Judah had captured.
I do not think that the Chronicler believed that Judah should obey God whereas the North was not expected to do so, for King Hezekiah in II Chronicles 30 invites the Northerners to come to Judah to observe the Passover; many Northerners laughed him to scorn within the story, however. My impression is that the Chronicler believes that Judahite kings should have encouraged the Northerners to observe Torah and properly worship the God of Israel, even if Asa and Jehoshaphat sometimes had different ideas about this, perhaps out of a sense that Judah was religiously superior, or other reasons. Still, the Chronicler seems to acknowledge that getting the North on the right path was an uphill battle. There were Northerners who left the North and voluntarily dwelt in Judah (II Chronicles 15:9), but many Israelites in Northern Israel could have been resistant to repentance, in the mind of the Chronicler.
Friday, January 2, 2015
1/2/2014 Items
1. We watched Dawn of the Planet of the Apes last night.
It’s an excellent movie, but it was uncomfortable for me to watch. I
was hoping that there would be peace and mutual understanding between
the humans and the apes. Caesar was fair-minded as the leader of the
apes, and so was Malcolm on the human side. But I knew that peaceful,
tolerant co-existence was not to be. And I dreaded what was about to
come.
Incidentally, Rise of the Planet of the Apes also made me uncomfortable. I just don’t like seeing animals being abused.
2. Mario Cuomo passed on. I have long known about him. I first heard of him through a book of 1988 political cartoons that I loved to read and reread when I was a kid, since there was speculation that he would run for President that year. Cuomo was also the father of my state’s current governor, Andrew Cuomo.
I don’t know much about his governorship, but I have been reading that he was able to balance the budget and lower the state income tax, all while making a society that cared for the vulnerable and marginalized. I wonder how he did that!
Incidentally, Rise of the Planet of the Apes also made me uncomfortable. I just don’t like seeing animals being abused.
2. Mario Cuomo passed on. I have long known about him. I first heard of him through a book of 1988 political cartoons that I loved to read and reread when I was a kid, since there was speculation that he would run for President that year. Cuomo was also the father of my state’s current governor, Andrew Cuomo.
I don’t know much about his governorship, but I have been reading that he was able to balance the budget and lower the state income tax, all while making a society that cared for the vulnerable and marginalized. I wonder how he did that!
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