Lee Harmon's Blog, page 103
February 2, 2012
Jonah 1:1-2, The Message of Jonah
Now the word of the LORD came unto Jonah the son of Amittai, saying, Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and cry against it; for their wickedness is come up before me.
//The book of Jonah is a wonderful, humanitarian story about universal love. You know the story: God says to Jonah, "go, preach to Nineveh." Jonah balks, for who could be sympathetic toward the hated Assyrians and their capital city of Nineveh? Jonah runs the other way. He winds up on a boat tossed by a powerful storm, is heaved overboard by the sailors when he is discovered to be the cause for God's wrath, and is swallowed by a big fish. When the fish coughs him up three days later, Jonah has had enough. He repents and does what God commands, preaching to Nineveh.
The whole city of Nineveh repents (Jonah must have been one heckuva preacher) and Jonah is miffed because God decides to pardon them. Jonah goes and sulks under a big "gourd" to escape the hot sun and contemplate the unfairness of life. Before the next day dawns, however, God creates a little worm who eats the gourd. Jonah is miffed all the more. God explains his lesson: Then said the LORD, Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for the which thou hast not laboured, neither madest it grow; which came up in a night, and perished in a night: And should not I spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more than sixscore thousand persons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand; and also much cattle?
This tale might be considered no more than a fun bedtime story, were it not for its timing. Scholars date the writing of this book precisely to a period in time when Jerusalem was undergoing a severe ethnic cleansing, shortly after a wave of Jews returned from captivity in Babylon. In an attempt to purify God's race, all non-Jews were being banished outside the walls of Jerusalem, even though it meant breaking up marriages and families.
Enter the anonymous book of Jonah, a bit of protest literature, with its plea for tolerance for all nations. The man Jonah, readers would recognize, is a portrayal of the Jews' own bigotry.
//The book of Jonah is a wonderful, humanitarian story about universal love. You know the story: God says to Jonah, "go, preach to Nineveh." Jonah balks, for who could be sympathetic toward the hated Assyrians and their capital city of Nineveh? Jonah runs the other way. He winds up on a boat tossed by a powerful storm, is heaved overboard by the sailors when he is discovered to be the cause for God's wrath, and is swallowed by a big fish. When the fish coughs him up three days later, Jonah has had enough. He repents and does what God commands, preaching to Nineveh.
The whole city of Nineveh repents (Jonah must have been one heckuva preacher) and Jonah is miffed because God decides to pardon them. Jonah goes and sulks under a big "gourd" to escape the hot sun and contemplate the unfairness of life. Before the next day dawns, however, God creates a little worm who eats the gourd. Jonah is miffed all the more. God explains his lesson: Then said the LORD, Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for the which thou hast not laboured, neither madest it grow; which came up in a night, and perished in a night: And should not I spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more than sixscore thousand persons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand; and also much cattle?
This tale might be considered no more than a fun bedtime story, were it not for its timing. Scholars date the writing of this book precisely to a period in time when Jerusalem was undergoing a severe ethnic cleansing, shortly after a wave of Jews returned from captivity in Babylon. In an attempt to purify God's race, all non-Jews were being banished outside the walls of Jerusalem, even though it meant breaking up marriages and families.
Enter the anonymous book of Jonah, a bit of protest literature, with its plea for tolerance for all nations. The man Jonah, readers would recognize, is a portrayal of the Jews' own bigotry.
February 1, 2012
Book review: Will Jesus Buy Me a Double-Wide?
by Karen Spears Zacharias
★★★★
Karen's new book is a collection of short introductions, mostly anonymous personas such as "The Bookseller" or "The Grill Man." Some are inspirational in the way they spread kindness with their lives and/or money, while others are downright sickening in their greed or coercion through a prosperity gospel. Think TV evangelists who promise that if you send your $100 now, today, God will bless you by returning far more. The book is sometimes heartwarming, sometimes disturbing.
Karen writes with wit and passion. She's opinionated and direct, and she gets on her high horse a bit as she exposes The Secret as utter hogwash, money-grubbing TV evangelism as downright fraud, and Bernie Madoff as the embodiment of evil. But she's serious about learning from the example of Jesus, and I dare say she has Jesus on her side. That is, if Jesus' teachings about money and its use are to be taken seriously.
Worth reading!
★★★★
Karen's new book is a collection of short introductions, mostly anonymous personas such as "The Bookseller" or "The Grill Man." Some are inspirational in the way they spread kindness with their lives and/or money, while others are downright sickening in their greed or coercion through a prosperity gospel. Think TV evangelists who promise that if you send your $100 now, today, God will bless you by returning far more. The book is sometimes heartwarming, sometimes disturbing.
Karen writes with wit and passion. She's opinionated and direct, and she gets on her high horse a bit as she exposes The Secret as utter hogwash, money-grubbing TV evangelism as downright fraud, and Bernie Madoff as the embodiment of evil. But she's serious about learning from the example of Jesus, and I dare say she has Jesus on her side. That is, if Jesus' teachings about money and its use are to be taken seriously.
Worth reading!
January 31, 2012
Matthew 6:10, Hermeneutics and Exegetics
Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.
//Hermeneutics and Exegetics—two big buzzwords that Bible scholars love to use. Just being able to pronounce these buggers is enough to establish your scholarly credibility, right?
Don't be intimidated. Let me give it to you simply, so you understand what they mean, and how you can practice them yourself.
Exegetics is the study of the original meaning of a text. It requires historical context. Hermeneutics is the next step: how is that understanding relevant to today's world? Proper hermeneutics is always founded on solid exegetics, but most people want to skip the original meaning and jump right into its current-day application.
Let's use the topic of the Lord's Prayer as an example, because it's still on my mind from my recent review of Robert Cornwall's book, Ultimate Allegiance. Consider this line: "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven." Reflective exegesis of this prayer recognizes that the earliest Christians were calling for a new age to begin. They held a vision of a kingdom on earth ruled by God. This new age they called the Kingdom of God, or the Kingdom of Heaven. Hermeneutics without exegesis, however, will invariably focus on the heaven part of the verse to the exclusion of the earth part, because today's Christians dream of living with God up in heaven. Christians today often pray this prayer thinking, "God, come take us up to your home with you," whereas if they flavored their hermeneutics with proper exegetics they would think, "God, come down and make your presence known in this world."
//Hermeneutics and Exegetics—two big buzzwords that Bible scholars love to use. Just being able to pronounce these buggers is enough to establish your scholarly credibility, right?
Don't be intimidated. Let me give it to you simply, so you understand what they mean, and how you can practice them yourself.
Exegetics is the study of the original meaning of a text. It requires historical context. Hermeneutics is the next step: how is that understanding relevant to today's world? Proper hermeneutics is always founded on solid exegetics, but most people want to skip the original meaning and jump right into its current-day application.
Let's use the topic of the Lord's Prayer as an example, because it's still on my mind from my recent review of Robert Cornwall's book, Ultimate Allegiance. Consider this line: "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven." Reflective exegesis of this prayer recognizes that the earliest Christians were calling for a new age to begin. They held a vision of a kingdom on earth ruled by God. This new age they called the Kingdom of God, or the Kingdom of Heaven. Hermeneutics without exegesis, however, will invariably focus on the heaven part of the verse to the exclusion of the earth part, because today's Christians dream of living with God up in heaven. Christians today often pray this prayer thinking, "God, come take us up to your home with you," whereas if they flavored their hermeneutics with proper exegetics they would think, "God, come down and make your presence known in this world."
January 30, 2012
Guest Post: Did Jesus' Death Save Us From Sin?
After reading the first of Christian Piatt's Banned Questions series, I contacted him asking if I could borrow a page from the book as a guest page. Now, having read and equally enjoyed the second book of the series, I contacted him again, asking about running a second guest post from this book. I chose this short discussion by Phil Snider.
Phil was asked to answer this question: "Jesus forgave people of their sins before he died. How could he do this if he actually had to die in order to save us from sin?"
//For many years, I sat in church quietly wondering why God's forgiveness was based on the idea that awful violence had to be inflicted upon Jesus in order for God to save us from sin. I was never comfortable with this idea, but I feared voicing my questions would make my Christian friends think I was a hell-bound heretic.
It was only when I went to seminary that I learned this wasn't the only way to view Jesus' death, and I'm glad to say I no longer believe Jesus had to die in order to save us from sin.
As it turns out, the idea that Jesus had to die on the cross in order for God to forgive our sins took nearly a thousand years to develop, and numerous theologians have pointed to its problematic implications. Chief among these concerns are questions related to God's power and God's character. In terms of God's power, why is it necessary for God to sacrifice God's Son in order to grant forgiveness? Is there, as Frederiek Depoortere says, "some higher authority or necessity above God with whom God has to comply in doing this"?
In terms of God's character, can't such a belief make God out to be "a perverse subject who plays obscene games with humanity and His own Son," like the narcissistic governess from Patricia Highsmith's Heroine who sets the family house on fire in order to be able to prove her devotion to the family by bravely saving the children from the raging flames?
Instead, my Christian faith is grounded in the affirmation that God's love is unconditional, which leads me to believe that God's forgiveness is unconditional as well. All of which means that Jesus' unconditional forgiveness—offered before he died—is one of the things that makes him most Godlike!
Phil was asked to answer this question: "Jesus forgave people of their sins before he died. How could he do this if he actually had to die in order to save us from sin?"
//For many years, I sat in church quietly wondering why God's forgiveness was based on the idea that awful violence had to be inflicted upon Jesus in order for God to save us from sin. I was never comfortable with this idea, but I feared voicing my questions would make my Christian friends think I was a hell-bound heretic.
It was only when I went to seminary that I learned this wasn't the only way to view Jesus' death, and I'm glad to say I no longer believe Jesus had to die in order to save us from sin.
As it turns out, the idea that Jesus had to die on the cross in order for God to forgive our sins took nearly a thousand years to develop, and numerous theologians have pointed to its problematic implications. Chief among these concerns are questions related to God's power and God's character. In terms of God's power, why is it necessary for God to sacrifice God's Son in order to grant forgiveness? Is there, as Frederiek Depoortere says, "some higher authority or necessity above God with whom God has to comply in doing this"?
In terms of God's character, can't such a belief make God out to be "a perverse subject who plays obscene games with humanity and His own Son," like the narcissistic governess from Patricia Highsmith's Heroine who sets the family house on fire in order to be able to prove her devotion to the family by bravely saving the children from the raging flames?
Instead, my Christian faith is grounded in the affirmation that God's love is unconditional, which leads me to believe that God's forgiveness is unconditional as well. All of which means that Jesus' unconditional forgiveness—offered before he died—is one of the things that makes him most Godlike!
January 29, 2012
Book review: Ultimate Allegiance
by Robert D. Cornwall
★★★★
This little 60-page booklet breaks down the Lord's Prayer, providing a line-by-line explanation. The provocative subtitle is The Subversive Nature of the Lord's Prayer, planting images in my mind of a prayer that drives me trembling to my knees, but that isn't quite the way Robert means it. The preface explains, "Prayer that is subversive is prayer that engages 'the powers that be.'"
Christians have for a couple thousand years recited this prayer—the Didache advises believers to pray these words at least three times each day—but do we recognize it as a pledge of action on our part, a statement of ultimate allegiance to God's purpose of establishing a kingdom on earth? The following observation by Robert is critical, particularly with the Lord's Prayer:
While prayer has a vertical dimension, uniting human beings with the divine, it also has a horizontal dimension. As with the two great commandments, our prayers link us to God and to neighbor.
In this light, the Lord's Prayer affirms our personal role in inaugurating the Kingdom of Heaven, under God's guidance. "Thy kingdom come," we beg, and in so doing, we are accepting an active role alongside our brethren. If we choose to participate in God's reign, we're committing ourselves to do God's will on earth as in heaven, and therefore engaging in the mission of God.
★★★★
This little 60-page booklet breaks down the Lord's Prayer, providing a line-by-line explanation. The provocative subtitle is The Subversive Nature of the Lord's Prayer, planting images in my mind of a prayer that drives me trembling to my knees, but that isn't quite the way Robert means it. The preface explains, "Prayer that is subversive is prayer that engages 'the powers that be.'"
Christians have for a couple thousand years recited this prayer—the Didache advises believers to pray these words at least three times each day—but do we recognize it as a pledge of action on our part, a statement of ultimate allegiance to God's purpose of establishing a kingdom on earth? The following observation by Robert is critical, particularly with the Lord's Prayer:
While prayer has a vertical dimension, uniting human beings with the divine, it also has a horizontal dimension. As with the two great commandments, our prayers link us to God and to neighbor.
In this light, the Lord's Prayer affirms our personal role in inaugurating the Kingdom of Heaven, under God's guidance. "Thy kingdom come," we beg, and in so doing, we are accepting an active role alongside our brethren. If we choose to participate in God's reign, we're committing ourselves to do God's will on earth as in heaven, and therefore engaging in the mission of God.
January 27, 2012
Deuteronomy 22:21, Thou Fool, part II of II
[S]he shall be brought to the door of her father's house and there the men of her town shall stone her to death. She has done a disgraceful thing in Israel by being promiscuous while still in her father's house. You must purge the evil from among you.
//In my verse yesterday, Jesus said if you call somebody a fool, you're on your way to hell. So, I thought I'd provide a bit of ambiance, describing what happened to "fools" in the Old Testament. Here's another one:
Joshua 7:15, He who is caught with the devoted things shall be destroyed by fire, along with all that belongs to him. He has violated the covenant of the LORD and has done a disgraceful thing in Israel!'"
So, people who disobey the law of God are to be stoned or burned. Probably both … killed with stones, then the body destroyed by fire. But what does this have to do with fools? We go back to the promise of Jesus in Matthew 5:21, the verse I quoted yesterday. Say to your brother, Raca, and you might have to go before the judge (Raca is an expression of contempt, like calling him stupid.) But say Thou Fool, and you're in danger of hell fire.
It's our interpretation that makes this hard to understand. "Thou fool" sounds quaint next to "hey, stupid!" But the Greek word translated "fool" actually speaks of something far more sinister than mere stupidity. Think of it as someone practicing idolatry or worse. It's no sin to be stupid, but it's a sin to be stupid about God's directives. That's why the fool says in his heart, "There is no God." (Psalm 14:1) ... not because he's an idiot, but because he justifies his sin with unbelief.
Which brings us to another point. When Jesus promised "hell fire," the Greek word he used was Gehennah, which is not hell at all. It's a once-pleasant valley on the south side of Jerusalem, but which drew the disfavor of God because of idolatry practiced there. Gehennah eventually evolved into a garbage dump that burned perpetually, a sort of fiery symbol for contemptuous destruction. The King James version of the Bible leaped to the conclusion that Jesus was speaking symbolically of eternal damnation, but scholars continue to argue about just what this image of Gehennah was meant to convey. A closer translation than eternal punishment might be the promise in Joshua 7:15, above, where the punishment is to be killed, and the body burned ... exactly how the valley of Gehennah was once used; as a fiery disposal of the bodies of the enemy.
We may never grasp just what this distasteful image of Gehennah was meant to convey. But if I were you, I'd stick to just calling my brother stupid.
//In my verse yesterday, Jesus said if you call somebody a fool, you're on your way to hell. So, I thought I'd provide a bit of ambiance, describing what happened to "fools" in the Old Testament. Here's another one:
Joshua 7:15, He who is caught with the devoted things shall be destroyed by fire, along with all that belongs to him. He has violated the covenant of the LORD and has done a disgraceful thing in Israel!'"
So, people who disobey the law of God are to be stoned or burned. Probably both … killed with stones, then the body destroyed by fire. But what does this have to do with fools? We go back to the promise of Jesus in Matthew 5:21, the verse I quoted yesterday. Say to your brother, Raca, and you might have to go before the judge (Raca is an expression of contempt, like calling him stupid.) But say Thou Fool, and you're in danger of hell fire.
It's our interpretation that makes this hard to understand. "Thou fool" sounds quaint next to "hey, stupid!" But the Greek word translated "fool" actually speaks of something far more sinister than mere stupidity. Think of it as someone practicing idolatry or worse. It's no sin to be stupid, but it's a sin to be stupid about God's directives. That's why the fool says in his heart, "There is no God." (Psalm 14:1) ... not because he's an idiot, but because he justifies his sin with unbelief.
Which brings us to another point. When Jesus promised "hell fire," the Greek word he used was Gehennah, which is not hell at all. It's a once-pleasant valley on the south side of Jerusalem, but which drew the disfavor of God because of idolatry practiced there. Gehennah eventually evolved into a garbage dump that burned perpetually, a sort of fiery symbol for contemptuous destruction. The King James version of the Bible leaped to the conclusion that Jesus was speaking symbolically of eternal damnation, but scholars continue to argue about just what this image of Gehennah was meant to convey. A closer translation than eternal punishment might be the promise in Joshua 7:15, above, where the punishment is to be killed, and the body burned ... exactly how the valley of Gehennah was once used; as a fiery disposal of the bodies of the enemy.
We may never grasp just what this distasteful image of Gehennah was meant to convey. But if I were you, I'd stick to just calling my brother stupid.
January 26, 2012
Matthew 5:22, Thou Fool, part I of II
But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.
//Pretty strong words coming from Jesus. Call somebody a fool, and you're headed for hell. Now, check out the following passage, also in Matthew, and also the words of Jesus:
Woe unto you, ye blind guides, which say, Whosoever shall swear by the temple, it is nothing; but whosoever shall swear by the gold of the temple, he is a debtor! Ye fools and blind: for whether is greater, the gold, or the temple that sanctifieth the gold?
Hey, what's going on? Is Jesus headed to hell for calling people fools? Or did Matthew forget what he promised a few chapters earlier? I'll let you worry about this overnight, and return to the topic tomorrow.
//Pretty strong words coming from Jesus. Call somebody a fool, and you're headed for hell. Now, check out the following passage, also in Matthew, and also the words of Jesus:
Woe unto you, ye blind guides, which say, Whosoever shall swear by the temple, it is nothing; but whosoever shall swear by the gold of the temple, he is a debtor! Ye fools and blind: for whether is greater, the gold, or the temple that sanctifieth the gold?
Hey, what's going on? Is Jesus headed to hell for calling people fools? Or did Matthew forget what he promised a few chapters earlier? I'll let you worry about this overnight, and return to the topic tomorrow.
January 25, 2012
Book review: The Meaning of Jesus
by Marcus J. Borg and N. T. Wright
★★★★★
Two of my favorite scholars, Marcus Borg and N. T. Wright, debate the meaning of Jesus. One is decidedly more conservative, but both are thoughtful and well-studied. And, raising hope for the future of Christianity, I would venture a guess that they are best friends despite their differences.
Wright believes the gospels are what they are "because their authors thought the events they were recording—all of them, not just some—actually happened." This may sound self-evident to conservative Christians, but it is not the way Borg sees it. Two terms he uses to describe gospel writing are "metaphor historicized," and its complement, "history metaphorized." Borg just can't jump on board with a literal reading of the gospels; he describes this outdated way of reading the Bible with five adjectives: literalistic, doctrinal, moralistic, exclusivistic, and afterlife oriented. This view, he says, has ceased to work for a large number of people, who find that if they must take the Bible literally, they cannot take it at all.
According to Borg, the "single most important difference" between these two scholars is their opinion about whether or not Jesus saw himself as the messiah. Wright says yes, Jesus understood his role as central to the salvation of the Jewish nation and, by extension, the world. Borg says no, Jesus' role as messiah grew after his death and resurrection, as the understanding of his followers evolved.
In my opinion, the single most important difference in the thinking of these two scholars is not Jesus' self-understanding, but the manner of his resurrection. Wright says Jesus rose in body, and showed himself physically to his disciples. Never mind that this new body could somehow walk through walls and disappear at will. "Resurrection," to a Jew, meant a physical rising in body. Wright argues that only an event of this magnitude could have triggered the devotion and dedication of the Jesus movement that continued on after his death. In contrast, Borg seems unconcerned with the empty tomb, and interprets the resurrection in a more spiritual manner. I'm oversimplifying his position, but Borg sees Jesus being "raised to God's right hand" as simply meaning Jesus has captured the position of Lord in the lives in his disciples. He is "raised up" by his followers after his death.
As I said, these are two of my favorite Jesus scholars. I believe Borg and Wright encapsulate liberal and conservative Christianity at their basic levels, and studying the two in tandem helps us appreciate the arguments of both sides. Great book!
★★★★★
Two of my favorite scholars, Marcus Borg and N. T. Wright, debate the meaning of Jesus. One is decidedly more conservative, but both are thoughtful and well-studied. And, raising hope for the future of Christianity, I would venture a guess that they are best friends despite their differences.
Wright believes the gospels are what they are "because their authors thought the events they were recording—all of them, not just some—actually happened." This may sound self-evident to conservative Christians, but it is not the way Borg sees it. Two terms he uses to describe gospel writing are "metaphor historicized," and its complement, "history metaphorized." Borg just can't jump on board with a literal reading of the gospels; he describes this outdated way of reading the Bible with five adjectives: literalistic, doctrinal, moralistic, exclusivistic, and afterlife oriented. This view, he says, has ceased to work for a large number of people, who find that if they must take the Bible literally, they cannot take it at all.
According to Borg, the "single most important difference" between these two scholars is their opinion about whether or not Jesus saw himself as the messiah. Wright says yes, Jesus understood his role as central to the salvation of the Jewish nation and, by extension, the world. Borg says no, Jesus' role as messiah grew after his death and resurrection, as the understanding of his followers evolved.
In my opinion, the single most important difference in the thinking of these two scholars is not Jesus' self-understanding, but the manner of his resurrection. Wright says Jesus rose in body, and showed himself physically to his disciples. Never mind that this new body could somehow walk through walls and disappear at will. "Resurrection," to a Jew, meant a physical rising in body. Wright argues that only an event of this magnitude could have triggered the devotion and dedication of the Jesus movement that continued on after his death. In contrast, Borg seems unconcerned with the empty tomb, and interprets the resurrection in a more spiritual manner. I'm oversimplifying his position, but Borg sees Jesus being "raised to God's right hand" as simply meaning Jesus has captured the position of Lord in the lives in his disciples. He is "raised up" by his followers after his death.
As I said, these are two of my favorite Jesus scholars. I believe Borg and Wright encapsulate liberal and conservative Christianity at their basic levels, and studying the two in tandem helps us appreciate the arguments of both sides. Great book!
January 24, 2012
Luke 9:28-31 The Second Exodus
And it came to pass about eight days after these sayings, [Jesus] took Peter and John and James, and went up into a mountain to pray. And as he prayed, the fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistening. And, behold, there talked with him two men, which were Moses and Elias: Who appeared in glory, and spake of his decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem. (KJV)
//Here's a puzzle for you. There's one word I want to emphasize in today's verses. It's the word "decease." Jesus spoke of his "decease," which he should "accomplish" at Jerusalem.
Sounds logical—that's where Jesus went to die on the cross—but most current versions of the Bible translate this word differently. Most read "departure," not "decease." The King James version, and a couple others, naturally assume that Jesus' "departure" means his death, since that's what they see being "accomplished" in Jerusalem. So they translate the word into "decease."
The New Living Translation actually contains the correct translation … by realizing that the word needs no translating at all. The original Greek word is exodos, translated "exodus," which does indeed mean "departure" … but which is also pregnant with meaning. We, today, equate the word exodus with Israel's escape from Egypt, when Moses led God's people to the promised land … and you can be sure that today's verses' original reference to the exodus would have been recognized just as plainly by first-century readers. Jesus planned to accomplish an exodus in Jerusalem, just like the one in Egypt.
So, apparently, the reference to Moses in this passage is not coincidental. Many Jews expected the coming Messiah figure to be patterned after Moses, and many anticipated some sort of second exodus. So, in this verse, as Jesus plans his trip to Jerusalem with Moses, he appears to be not leaving his disciples, but leading them to a new land! But that begs the obvious question: Where is he leading them?
//Here's a puzzle for you. There's one word I want to emphasize in today's verses. It's the word "decease." Jesus spoke of his "decease," which he should "accomplish" at Jerusalem.
Sounds logical—that's where Jesus went to die on the cross—but most current versions of the Bible translate this word differently. Most read "departure," not "decease." The King James version, and a couple others, naturally assume that Jesus' "departure" means his death, since that's what they see being "accomplished" in Jerusalem. So they translate the word into "decease."
The New Living Translation actually contains the correct translation … by realizing that the word needs no translating at all. The original Greek word is exodos, translated "exodus," which does indeed mean "departure" … but which is also pregnant with meaning. We, today, equate the word exodus with Israel's escape from Egypt, when Moses led God's people to the promised land … and you can be sure that today's verses' original reference to the exodus would have been recognized just as plainly by first-century readers. Jesus planned to accomplish an exodus in Jerusalem, just like the one in Egypt.
So, apparently, the reference to Moses in this passage is not coincidental. Many Jews expected the coming Messiah figure to be patterned after Moses, and many anticipated some sort of second exodus. So, in this verse, as Jesus plans his trip to Jerusalem with Moses, he appears to be not leaving his disciples, but leading them to a new land! But that begs the obvious question: Where is he leading them?
January 23, 2012
Genesis 29:17, Leah's Eyes
Leah was tender eyed; but Rachel was beautiful and well favoured. //You know the story. Jacob has gotten ahead in life through trickery, deceiving both his brother and his father at different times, and now he gets a taste of his own medicine. He agrees to serve a man named Laban for seven years in exchange for his daughter, Rachel. Laban had two daughters; Leah was "tender eyed," but Rachel was beautiful, and Jacob loved Rachel.
"Tender eyed" is the King James translation. Other translations are not so kind. The most common translation is that Leah had weak eyes, though other versions call her eyes blue (apparently a real turn-off), or dull, or soft, or lacking sparkle. Bishop John Shelby Spong interprets the text to mean she had "eyes that popped out of her head like those of a cow." Whatever the true meaning—the text is indeed difficult to translate—it's clear there was no compliment intended.
As the story goes, Jacob works seven years for Laban, who then awards him his daughter, and Jacob consummates their marriage, only to wake up next to his wife in the morning to find ... Leah! He has taken to wife the daughter with ugly eyes! This bit of chicanery on the part of Laban is taken in stride by Jacob—after all, deception is only the way of life he knows—and he agrees to serve Laban another seven years for the second daughter. We're told she was worth it.
(p.s., Don't be distressed about poor Jacob. In the end, he devises a nasty plot to steal the best of Laban's herds, and thus gets the best of Laban after all.)
"Tender eyed" is the King James translation. Other translations are not so kind. The most common translation is that Leah had weak eyes, though other versions call her eyes blue (apparently a real turn-off), or dull, or soft, or lacking sparkle. Bishop John Shelby Spong interprets the text to mean she had "eyes that popped out of her head like those of a cow." Whatever the true meaning—the text is indeed difficult to translate—it's clear there was no compliment intended.
As the story goes, Jacob works seven years for Laban, who then awards him his daughter, and Jacob consummates their marriage, only to wake up next to his wife in the morning to find ... Leah! He has taken to wife the daughter with ugly eyes! This bit of chicanery on the part of Laban is taken in stride by Jacob—after all, deception is only the way of life he knows—and he agrees to serve Laban another seven years for the second daughter. We're told she was worth it.
(p.s., Don't be distressed about poor Jacob. In the end, he devises a nasty plot to steal the best of Laban's herds, and thus gets the best of Laban after all.)
