Lee Harmon's Blog, page 106
December 31, 2011
Book review: Hometown Prophet
by Jeff Fulmer
★★★★★
A great story! Fulmer is an interesting writer who knows how to make you keep turning the pages.
Jeff Fulmer's "prophet" is a 30-year-old hometown nobody named Peter, who can't hold a job or find a girlfriend. He lives with his mom. Loser, with a capital L. (Jeff admits in the epilogue that he bears some resemblance to Peter, so I probably just lost a potential friend.)
Peter starts having dreams, and the dreams start coming true. He begins attending church, reading his Bible, sharing his prophecies. The dreams escalate to the level of natural disasters, and while they always come true, Peter begins to wonder when he'll guess wrong about what they mean. Who's feeding him these prophecies, anyway? God, or some more malevolent being? The plot's probably been done before, but Fulmer's writing grabs you and won't let go.
Not everyone is that enamored of having a prophet in their midst. While the plot line hangs pretty closely to Peter's prophetic development and the reaction of the world around him, there's an underlying theme to the dreams, which can be summed up in a story from the Gospel of Luke: The Good Samaritan. Peter explains in a television interview, "Jesus said it comes down to loving our neighbors as ourselves and loving God with all of our hearts."
This is Christian literature, and Fulmer's liberal Christian stance shines, and while I appreciated that, I didn't find the book the least bit overbearing or preachy. I can't even really categorize it as controversial, because each of us already knows its truths in the depths of our hearts … whether we admit it or not. It's more of a feel-good, love-your-neighbor journey. Whoever those neighbors are.
And a fun read.
★★★★★
A great story! Fulmer is an interesting writer who knows how to make you keep turning the pages.
Jeff Fulmer's "prophet" is a 30-year-old hometown nobody named Peter, who can't hold a job or find a girlfriend. He lives with his mom. Loser, with a capital L. (Jeff admits in the epilogue that he bears some resemblance to Peter, so I probably just lost a potential friend.)
Peter starts having dreams, and the dreams start coming true. He begins attending church, reading his Bible, sharing his prophecies. The dreams escalate to the level of natural disasters, and while they always come true, Peter begins to wonder when he'll guess wrong about what they mean. Who's feeding him these prophecies, anyway? God, or some more malevolent being? The plot's probably been done before, but Fulmer's writing grabs you and won't let go.
Not everyone is that enamored of having a prophet in their midst. While the plot line hangs pretty closely to Peter's prophetic development and the reaction of the world around him, there's an underlying theme to the dreams, which can be summed up in a story from the Gospel of Luke: The Good Samaritan. Peter explains in a television interview, "Jesus said it comes down to loving our neighbors as ourselves and loving God with all of our hearts."
This is Christian literature, and Fulmer's liberal Christian stance shines, and while I appreciated that, I didn't find the book the least bit overbearing or preachy. I can't even really categorize it as controversial, because each of us already knows its truths in the depths of our hearts … whether we admit it or not. It's more of a feel-good, love-your-neighbor journey. Whoever those neighbors are.
And a fun read.
December 30, 2011
Luke 1:3, Most Excellent Theophilus
Therefore, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, it seemed good also to me to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus.
//With this introduction, the author of Luke's Gospel begins his work. Many people have wondered: who is this Theophilus dude?
Well, it's hard to know. We don't even know who wrote Luke's Gospel, or any of the other three for that matter. In that era of copyists and manual document propagation, an author and his manuscript very quickly became disconnected. All four of the Gospels were written anonymously, with their authorship deduced and attached in the second century.
We think Luke was written around 80-85 CE, and apparently by this time, a number of other Gospels had already been penned (the author alludes to this in verse 1:1, and purports to have researched them carefully to determine the true events of Jesus' life). One of these others was Mark's Gospel, since Luke shows every evidence of having read and copied large portions of Mark into his own rendition, but we don't know what other sources Luke was drawing from. But none of this helps much in figuring out who Luke was writing to.
Luke was written in Greek, and Theophilus is a Greek name. But this also means little, not even proving that his audience was Gentile. Many Jewish people in the Greco-Roman world had Greek names, and many Jews preferred Greek. In fact, a Jew named Theophilus served as high priest in the Jerusalem Temple for four years, beginning in 37 CE.
The best we have is a stab in the dark: "Theophilus" is a Greek compound of two words: "theos," meaning God, and "philos," meaning love. The author of Luke may have meant to address his Gospel simply to any "lover of God."
//With this introduction, the author of Luke's Gospel begins his work. Many people have wondered: who is this Theophilus dude?
Well, it's hard to know. We don't even know who wrote Luke's Gospel, or any of the other three for that matter. In that era of copyists and manual document propagation, an author and his manuscript very quickly became disconnected. All four of the Gospels were written anonymously, with their authorship deduced and attached in the second century.
We think Luke was written around 80-85 CE, and apparently by this time, a number of other Gospels had already been penned (the author alludes to this in verse 1:1, and purports to have researched them carefully to determine the true events of Jesus' life). One of these others was Mark's Gospel, since Luke shows every evidence of having read and copied large portions of Mark into his own rendition, but we don't know what other sources Luke was drawing from. But none of this helps much in figuring out who Luke was writing to.
Luke was written in Greek, and Theophilus is a Greek name. But this also means little, not even proving that his audience was Gentile. Many Jewish people in the Greco-Roman world had Greek names, and many Jews preferred Greek. In fact, a Jew named Theophilus served as high priest in the Jerusalem Temple for four years, beginning in 37 CE.
The best we have is a stab in the dark: "Theophilus" is a Greek compound of two words: "theos," meaning God, and "philos," meaning love. The author of Luke may have meant to address his Gospel simply to any "lover of God."
December 29, 2011
Hebrews 11:13, Strangers and Pilgrims
These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.
//Hebrews chapter 11 is sometimes called "God's honor roll," because it lists many of the Old Testament's faithful figures, concluding that they could see into the future to the coming age. As Hebrews reports, they were "strangers and pilgrims" in a foreign world, waiting for the glory of God's new age.
But how far, exactly, did these faithful men see into the future? When would the glory of God be revealed?
The book of 1 Peter is still waiting. Verse 2:11 reads, Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul.
But the author of Ephesians (probably not Paul) has a different opinion. Ephesians contains an undercurrent of "realized eschatology;" that is, the doctrine that the new age has already begun. Verse 2:19 reads, Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God. For this writer, the age has arrived.
My opinion? The Kingdom of Heaven has arrived if you embrace it; it hasn't, if you're still scanning the skies waiting for Jesus to come back on the clouds.[image error]
//Hebrews chapter 11 is sometimes called "God's honor roll," because it lists many of the Old Testament's faithful figures, concluding that they could see into the future to the coming age. As Hebrews reports, they were "strangers and pilgrims" in a foreign world, waiting for the glory of God's new age.
But how far, exactly, did these faithful men see into the future? When would the glory of God be revealed?
The book of 1 Peter is still waiting. Verse 2:11 reads, Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul.
But the author of Ephesians (probably not Paul) has a different opinion. Ephesians contains an undercurrent of "realized eschatology;" that is, the doctrine that the new age has already begun. Verse 2:19 reads, Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God. For this writer, the age has arrived.
My opinion? The Kingdom of Heaven has arrived if you embrace it; it hasn't, if you're still scanning the skies waiting for Jesus to come back on the clouds.[image error]
December 28, 2011
Book review: The God Whom Moses Knew
by J. Roger Nelson, M.D.
★★★
Roger tells the story of Moses, leaning heavily on the Biblical version, and does so pretty straight-forwardly. Moses grows up in an Egyptian palace, learns about his Hebrew roots, kills an Egyptian taskmaster, flees into the desert for forty years, sees a burning bush, returns to Egypt at God's command to lead the Israelites out of bondage. All by the book.
Everyone knows the story of the plagues of Egypt. Frogs and locusts and bloody rivers and stuff. They're as destructive in Roger's version as they are in the Bible. In fact, as the plagues roll on and Pharaoh won't buckle, Moses begins to feel sorry for Egypt. He tries to convert Pharaoh away from Egyptian gods to the God of Abraham, hoping to stave off further suffering. Failing this, Moses trudges through Egyptian lands warning people of the next plague, a murderous hailstorm, and begging them to stay indoors.
Eventually, Moses leads Israel out into the desert, where the people turn cranky, and God loses patience. The story's theme of God-ordained suffering continues. When Israel at Baal Peor begins to worship the wrong god, the God of Abraham tells them to kill all their wayward brethren. Moses watches his brethen slaughter twenty four thousand of their own.
As they reach the promised land, God instructs Israel to murder everything that moves. "You shall not leave alive anything that breathes." Moses weeps for Canaan's inhabitants, and makes up some unconvincing excuses for God's behavior. There was no alternative to God's ruthlessness, he decides. Israel must kill the males because if they don't, the enemy armies will be an ever-present threat. If Israel hadn't proven themselves untrustworthy, God would probably not require this. They must kill the females because the women deserve it. These women enticed Israel's men with their feminine wiles. They must kill all the cows because … well, I guess Moses doesn't have an excuse for this one.
All this is relayed in a matter-of-fact tone. God speaks directly to Moses, so we are given no reason to believe all this pain isn't sanctioned by the Big Guy, Himself. Near the end of the story, as Moses is about the die, Joshua, his successor, asks him a question: "Moses, how can we convince others that God is not a cruel tyrant, but a wise, forgiving, and indeed a feeling God?" Moses in essence tells Joshua he'll have to figure that one out on his own. Okay, this is fine so far, but suddenly the book threw me for a loop. As it settled to a close, Roger felt compelled to include an evangelical pitch. God desires all to come to him. "Are you choosing not to believe, to be left behind in Egypt?" Uh, Roger, did you read your own book? Is God a jealous, genocidal murderer or is he not? Can you at least give some hint that all this inhumanity wasn't really God's doing, before asking us to follow him?
★★★
Roger tells the story of Moses, leaning heavily on the Biblical version, and does so pretty straight-forwardly. Moses grows up in an Egyptian palace, learns about his Hebrew roots, kills an Egyptian taskmaster, flees into the desert for forty years, sees a burning bush, returns to Egypt at God's command to lead the Israelites out of bondage. All by the book.
Everyone knows the story of the plagues of Egypt. Frogs and locusts and bloody rivers and stuff. They're as destructive in Roger's version as they are in the Bible. In fact, as the plagues roll on and Pharaoh won't buckle, Moses begins to feel sorry for Egypt. He tries to convert Pharaoh away from Egyptian gods to the God of Abraham, hoping to stave off further suffering. Failing this, Moses trudges through Egyptian lands warning people of the next plague, a murderous hailstorm, and begging them to stay indoors.
Eventually, Moses leads Israel out into the desert, where the people turn cranky, and God loses patience. The story's theme of God-ordained suffering continues. When Israel at Baal Peor begins to worship the wrong god, the God of Abraham tells them to kill all their wayward brethren. Moses watches his brethen slaughter twenty four thousand of their own.
As they reach the promised land, God instructs Israel to murder everything that moves. "You shall not leave alive anything that breathes." Moses weeps for Canaan's inhabitants, and makes up some unconvincing excuses for God's behavior. There was no alternative to God's ruthlessness, he decides. Israel must kill the males because if they don't, the enemy armies will be an ever-present threat. If Israel hadn't proven themselves untrustworthy, God would probably not require this. They must kill the females because the women deserve it. These women enticed Israel's men with their feminine wiles. They must kill all the cows because … well, I guess Moses doesn't have an excuse for this one.
All this is relayed in a matter-of-fact tone. God speaks directly to Moses, so we are given no reason to believe all this pain isn't sanctioned by the Big Guy, Himself. Near the end of the story, as Moses is about the die, Joshua, his successor, asks him a question: "Moses, how can we convince others that God is not a cruel tyrant, but a wise, forgiving, and indeed a feeling God?" Moses in essence tells Joshua he'll have to figure that one out on his own. Okay, this is fine so far, but suddenly the book threw me for a loop. As it settled to a close, Roger felt compelled to include an evangelical pitch. God desires all to come to him. "Are you choosing not to believe, to be left behind in Egypt?" Uh, Roger, did you read your own book? Is God a jealous, genocidal murderer or is he not? Can you at least give some hint that all this inhumanity wasn't really God's doing, before asking us to follow him?
December 27, 2011
Exodus 16:2-3, Those Grumbling Travelers
In the desert the whole community grumbled against Moses and Aaron. The Israelites said to them, "If only we had died by the LORD's hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death."
//Just shortly after their miraculous escape from Egypt, and immediately after a joyful celebration of their deliverance, the children of Israel began to grumble that they were hungry. Odd: When they left Egypt, they took with them "large droves of livestock, both flocks and herds." So why didn't they stop grumbling and just kill a cow?
Perhaps the cow had become a sacred symbol to them. Perhaps they saw these cattle as "gods," the very ones they had worshipped during their stay in Egypt. Recall that it wouldn't be long before they constructed a golden calf.
But that doesn't answer the question of why Moses didn't just demand that they shut up and eat the food they brought. More likely, their raucous victory celebration, when the Egyptian army all died in the Red Sea, resulted in a feast to end all feasts, and they ate all their cattle right off the bat.
Good vacation planning, guys.[image error]
//Just shortly after their miraculous escape from Egypt, and immediately after a joyful celebration of their deliverance, the children of Israel began to grumble that they were hungry. Odd: When they left Egypt, they took with them "large droves of livestock, both flocks and herds." So why didn't they stop grumbling and just kill a cow?
Perhaps the cow had become a sacred symbol to them. Perhaps they saw these cattle as "gods," the very ones they had worshipped during their stay in Egypt. Recall that it wouldn't be long before they constructed a golden calf.
But that doesn't answer the question of why Moses didn't just demand that they shut up and eat the food they brought. More likely, their raucous victory celebration, when the Egyptian army all died in the Red Sea, resulted in a feast to end all feasts, and they ate all their cattle right off the bat.
Good vacation planning, guys.[image error]
December 26, 2011
Book review: Lion's Honey, the Myth of Samson
by David Grossman
★★★★★
I never liked Samson. I've said before that if the two of us meet someday in heaven, there will probably be a personality clash to end all clashes. I'm hoping that my new heavenly body won't be quite so easy to beat up.
Then I read David Grossman's little book. David carries us deep into the mind--nay, the very heart--of this ancient hero, to uncover what makes him tick. Sampson has been transformed from a turbulent, macho man into a needy, troubled misfit. A muscle-bound one, no less, which makes for an explosive combination.
I like him even less this way. I would shake Delilah's hand for uncovering his secret. No, not his long hair, but the inner child that longs to be normal, which she then carefully and deliberately manipulates.
Yeah, I'm fine with the tragic ending, Samson deserved it. Nevertheless, David's clever retelling succeeds in adding life to the myth. Kudos! David draws upon various Hebrew traditions to spice up Samson's twisted personality, then leaves the poor man without even a decent shrink. How else could the story end?
Sorry, David, I never did feel any sympathy for your guy. But I absolutely loved reading your story.
★★★★★
I never liked Samson. I've said before that if the two of us meet someday in heaven, there will probably be a personality clash to end all clashes. I'm hoping that my new heavenly body won't be quite so easy to beat up.
Then I read David Grossman's little book. David carries us deep into the mind--nay, the very heart--of this ancient hero, to uncover what makes him tick. Sampson has been transformed from a turbulent, macho man into a needy, troubled misfit. A muscle-bound one, no less, which makes for an explosive combination.
I like him even less this way. I would shake Delilah's hand for uncovering his secret. No, not his long hair, but the inner child that longs to be normal, which she then carefully and deliberately manipulates.
Yeah, I'm fine with the tragic ending, Samson deserved it. Nevertheless, David's clever retelling succeeds in adding life to the myth. Kudos! David draws upon various Hebrew traditions to spice up Samson's twisted personality, then leaves the poor man without even a decent shrink. How else could the story end?
Sorry, David, I never did feel any sympathy for your guy. But I absolutely loved reading your story.
December 25, 2011
Jeremiah 10:3-4, The Christmas Tree
For the customs of the people are vain: for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe. They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not.
//Jeremiah, quoting the commandment of God, seems to say "quit cutting down my trees and adorning them with jewels." As I write this, I'm sitting six feet from my own Christmas tree. Have I joined the ranks of the heathen?
I see this verse trotted out every other year by someone criticizing the Christmas tree tradition, but they fail to read the context of the verse. Puritans wishing to avoid all semblance of pagan influence on their celebration of Christ's birth may indeed have their arguments against Christmas trees, but the Bible isn't one of them.
Jeremiah's concern was not with the tree, but with what the nations around Israel were making out of them. They were chiseling them into gods and overlaying them with gold and silver. They were nailing them down so they didn't topple over while they worshipped them.
Like a scarecrow in a melon patch, their idols cannot speak; they must be carried because they cannot walk. Do not fear them; they can do no harm nor can they do any good.
//Jeremiah, quoting the commandment of God, seems to say "quit cutting down my trees and adorning them with jewels." As I write this, I'm sitting six feet from my own Christmas tree. Have I joined the ranks of the heathen?
I see this verse trotted out every other year by someone criticizing the Christmas tree tradition, but they fail to read the context of the verse. Puritans wishing to avoid all semblance of pagan influence on their celebration of Christ's birth may indeed have their arguments against Christmas trees, but the Bible isn't one of them.
Jeremiah's concern was not with the tree, but with what the nations around Israel were making out of them. They were chiseling them into gods and overlaying them with gold and silver. They were nailing them down so they didn't topple over while they worshipped them.
Like a scarecrow in a melon patch, their idols cannot speak; they must be carried because they cannot walk. Do not fear them; they can do no harm nor can they do any good.
December 24, 2011
Leviticus 14:1-2, How to Heal a Leper
And the LORD spake unto Moses, saying, This shall be the law of the leper in the day of his cleansing:
//Do you really want to know how to heal a leper?
Okay. First, the Old Testament way:
Find a couple birds. Kill one in a vessel over running water. Dip the other one in the blood of the dead one. Sprinkle the dead bird's blood on the leper seven times, then let the blood-soaked live bird fly away. Wait for the leper to shave off all his hair, including his eyebrows. Next, kill a lamb. Wipe some of its blood on the leper's ear, thumb, and big toe. Go get some oil. Sprinkle him seven times with oil, again dobbing some of the oil on his ear, thumb, and toe. Do it once more. Then pour what's left of the oil over the leper's head. Finally, kill a couple doves. Offer one as a sin offering, and the other as a burnt offering.
Now, the New Testament way:
Mark 1:40-41, And Jesus, moved with compassion, put forth his hand, and touched him, and saith unto him, I will; be thou clean.
//Do you really want to know how to heal a leper?
Okay. First, the Old Testament way:
Find a couple birds. Kill one in a vessel over running water. Dip the other one in the blood of the dead one. Sprinkle the dead bird's blood on the leper seven times, then let the blood-soaked live bird fly away. Wait for the leper to shave off all his hair, including his eyebrows. Next, kill a lamb. Wipe some of its blood on the leper's ear, thumb, and big toe. Go get some oil. Sprinkle him seven times with oil, again dobbing some of the oil on his ear, thumb, and toe. Do it once more. Then pour what's left of the oil over the leper's head. Finally, kill a couple doves. Offer one as a sin offering, and the other as a burnt offering.
Now, the New Testament way:
Mark 1:40-41, And Jesus, moved with compassion, put forth his hand, and touched him, and saith unto him, I will; be thou clean.
December 23, 2011
Book review: A Christian Nation?
by David Rosman, MA
★★★★
Separation of church and state in America—fact or fiction? What did our founding fathers really intend? Rosman, a "Jew by heritage, atheist by belief, and Unitarian by affiliation," steps us through the evidence he collected from proponents of both sides of the debate. He starts out with a lengthy discussion of the "guys in wigs," and the religious beliefs they espoused. Then he methodically considers the primary founding papers, including:
The Articles of ConfederationThe ConstitutionThe Bill of RightsThe Treaty of Tripoli
Do these documents and more betray a Christian underpinning? Or do they encourage religious tolerance? Is the constitution really based on the Ten Commandments? When did God find His way into the Star Spangled Banner, and how did "In God We Trust" turn into our national motto, even adorning our coins? Rosman's controversial finding: We became a nation "under God" in the 1950's, when cold war propaganda necessitated our uniting against those godless commies in the USSR.
Rosman's analysis is very well-organized and actually quite balanced, even when he exposes America's cold war strategy. His research leads to the expected conclusion: Our nation was NOT founded on Christian beliefs. Although a few early individuals did make efforts to merge religion and government, most of those efforts were met by reason and properly rejected.
It turns out our founding fathers shared a diverse collection of beliefs. Many were Christians, many were Deists, many were careful to give no indication. The settlers who founded our nation may have known their Bible, having come from nations where Christianity was the primary religion, but America was founded on religious freedom. We can't describe these men in wide brushstrokes, collectively categorizing them all as Christians or Deists or Atheists. That's as nonsensical as pretending all the writers of the New Testament were Trinitarians or Adoptionists. Different people hold different religious views—whether 2,000 years ago, 250 years ago, or today. And toleration of these differences form the strength of our nation.
I enjoyed the book and learned a ton, but two annoyances keep me from giving it a five-star review: A bit of a slow start, and an inordinate number of editing errors. I don't usually let errors influence my ranking, but this one definitely needed a better editor. [image error]
★★★★
Separation of church and state in America—fact or fiction? What did our founding fathers really intend? Rosman, a "Jew by heritage, atheist by belief, and Unitarian by affiliation," steps us through the evidence he collected from proponents of both sides of the debate. He starts out with a lengthy discussion of the "guys in wigs," and the religious beliefs they espoused. Then he methodically considers the primary founding papers, including:
The Articles of ConfederationThe ConstitutionThe Bill of RightsThe Treaty of Tripoli
Do these documents and more betray a Christian underpinning? Or do they encourage religious tolerance? Is the constitution really based on the Ten Commandments? When did God find His way into the Star Spangled Banner, and how did "In God We Trust" turn into our national motto, even adorning our coins? Rosman's controversial finding: We became a nation "under God" in the 1950's, when cold war propaganda necessitated our uniting against those godless commies in the USSR.
Rosman's analysis is very well-organized and actually quite balanced, even when he exposes America's cold war strategy. His research leads to the expected conclusion: Our nation was NOT founded on Christian beliefs. Although a few early individuals did make efforts to merge religion and government, most of those efforts were met by reason and properly rejected.
It turns out our founding fathers shared a diverse collection of beliefs. Many were Christians, many were Deists, many were careful to give no indication. The settlers who founded our nation may have known their Bible, having come from nations where Christianity was the primary religion, but America was founded on religious freedom. We can't describe these men in wide brushstrokes, collectively categorizing them all as Christians or Deists or Atheists. That's as nonsensical as pretending all the writers of the New Testament were Trinitarians or Adoptionists. Different people hold different religious views—whether 2,000 years ago, 250 years ago, or today. And toleration of these differences form the strength of our nation.
I enjoyed the book and learned a ton, but two annoyances keep me from giving it a five-star review: A bit of a slow start, and an inordinate number of editing errors. I don't usually let errors influence my ranking, but this one definitely needed a better editor. [image error]
December 22, 2011
Psalm 137:1-4, By the Rivers of Babylon
By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How shall we sing the LORD'S song in a strange land?
//Casual Bible readers, unaware of Israel's history, often miss the desperate atmosphere which produced much of the Old Testament. A number of sections in the Bible were written "in exile;" that is, in the period in which Israel had been destroyed and the Jews were dwelling as captives in Babylon.
In those days, defeat of a nation was more than demoralizing. It was evidence of the impotence of their god. When rival nations fought (I use the word "nation" loosely), their representative gods in heaven warred as well. When Israel lost, first the northern kingdom to Assyria and then the southern kingdom to Babylon, it was as much a religious crisis as national one. Yahweh, the chosen god of Israel, had presumably been destroyed. The Babylonian deities were the victors.
It was in this atmosphere that the above hymn was penned. The Jews, desperate to one day recover their sacred land, refused to believe their god had died. Instead, they concluded, they were being punished. They dug in their heels and swore to an even greater code of holiness.
There, in the land of the enemy, they reinstituted the Sabbath, adopted kosher dietary laws, and began practicing circumcision, all in an attempt to preserve the boundaries which kept them a separated people. These laws were specifically chosen to make Jews "different."
It worked. Their god revived, and when the Persians conquered Babylon a half-century later, a remnant of the Jews remained as a cohesive, consecrated people, and they were allowed to return to their holy land.[image error]
//Casual Bible readers, unaware of Israel's history, often miss the desperate atmosphere which produced much of the Old Testament. A number of sections in the Bible were written "in exile;" that is, in the period in which Israel had been destroyed and the Jews were dwelling as captives in Babylon.
In those days, defeat of a nation was more than demoralizing. It was evidence of the impotence of their god. When rival nations fought (I use the word "nation" loosely), their representative gods in heaven warred as well. When Israel lost, first the northern kingdom to Assyria and then the southern kingdom to Babylon, it was as much a religious crisis as national one. Yahweh, the chosen god of Israel, had presumably been destroyed. The Babylonian deities were the victors.
It was in this atmosphere that the above hymn was penned. The Jews, desperate to one day recover their sacred land, refused to believe their god had died. Instead, they concluded, they were being punished. They dug in their heels and swore to an even greater code of holiness.
There, in the land of the enemy, they reinstituted the Sabbath, adopted kosher dietary laws, and began practicing circumcision, all in an attempt to preserve the boundaries which kept them a separated people. These laws were specifically chosen to make Jews "different."
It worked. Their god revived, and when the Persians conquered Babylon a half-century later, a remnant of the Jews remained as a cohesive, consecrated people, and they were allowed to return to their holy land.[image error]
