Heading south to Petersburg (VA)'s Life through Lit Fest. It's a book lovin' day to spend in the park. Live music, free books, author chats, and yes funnel cakes. Come if you can (noon-7pm in Poplar Lawn Park)! It'd be fun to see you there~
May 2010 Archives
Turns out that in order to comment on my Good Morning America essay, you need to "register." The good news: I was told that you can use "ANY alias and even a bogus email." So much for security. Thanks for posting to the site!
Can learning be a spiritual exercise? Check out my Good Morning America essay and plz comment. I'd love to hear your ideas on the topic!
The storied "sea" (actually a freshwater lake) where Jesus performed miracles among its fisher-folk and from which Jesus called his disciples to become "fishers of men" is now off limits. Galilean fish stocks are so depleted that Israel has instituted a ban on fishing there, in effect for two years, in the hopes that that piscis population will rebound. For those of us who know Galilee from the gospel stories, it's easy to get sentimental, wishing for a 21st century reality just like we read about Jesus' first century one.
But as Louis Jenkins' poem that Garrison Keillor read on today's Writers Almanac reminds us, "Everything changes." He observes, "Dinosaurs did not disappear from the earth but evolved into birds and crock pots became bread makers and then the bread makers all went to rummage sales along with the exercise bikes."
I've been thinking with church groups lately about what the Bible says about environmental issues, and how different the message can be when we consider that everything changes. That we today can radically transform our conditions, that we can take for granted safety from wild animals and the weather and have no worries about access to food makes Genesis 1's command to subdue and have dominion mean differently than it did in its ancient context.
In the case of Galilee, it means a fishing ban -- active care and wise restraint -- in what would seem on the surface to be directly opposed to Jesus' encouraging such industry. The biblical notion of controlling and ruling over the non-human natural world is transformed into intelligent stewardship. Paradoxically, that would seem to be exactly what the biblical texts promote.
Obama's nomination of Elena Kagan to the Supreme Court got me thinking about Jewish traditions of justice, at least as the Bible suggests and reflects. Near as I can tell, it bodes well for the work she'd be doing. I don't think it's a stretch to say that justice is a major preoccupation of the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) -- the Jewish Bible.
One thing that makes me optimistic, if Kagan is informed by these roots, is how the Bible clearly champions justice while accepting that the just thing is not always immediately clear. Rather, doing justice requires wrestling with the particularities of certain circumstances (think of all those specific "laws" in Exodus and Leviticus, for example), balancing absolute "thou shalt nots" with the fact that sometimes we do anyway, and determining where and when is the most just thing actually mercy.
Then there's the central role of debate, argument, and conversation in determining how best to execute justice. Sometimes, the Bible supports different sides of the same issue, as I briefly note in one of Bible Babel's chapters, inviting us to bring our own experiences and judgments to the table. Shoot, even God's judgments are subject to review and debate!... by human beings, no less (think Abraham in Genesis 18). In the Bible, priority and emphasis lie with doing the right thing, yes, but figuring out what exactly that is requires diligent wrestling, argument, and the confidence to be humble. Here's hoping that Kagan brings that spirit to the bench.
Our neighbors across the Atlantic are typically less Bible-happy in political discourse than we in the States. So Gordon Brown made news by (mis)quoting the Good Book recently. The British Prime Minister, facing attacks from political rivals, asked his church audience to recall "the great story of Micah in the Gospel." But Micah is an Old Testament, Hebrew prophet; "the Gospel" is "the good news" of Jesus; and the gospels are books of the New Testament.
Now, I don't want to come down too hard on the guy. It's a minor flub in an on-the-spot comment. Compounding the error, though, he went on to attribute a sensible but non-biblical saying to Micah: "Have done with people who are just presenting images. Have done with people who are just talking or singing songs that don't mean anything. Have done with the irrelevancies. Get to the center point." The lofty, sort of antiquated nature of the language makes the aphorism sound a bit King James-y, and it seems like the kind of timelessly good idea that we might find in the Bible; but finally it's simply not there.
He did, however, choose another inspiring statement that is indeed in the Bible: "Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." In its context, it's a ringing endorsement of social justice (hello, Glenn Beck). This charge, as powerful now as it was for Martin Luther King Junior's audience and for ancient Israel, does not, however, come from Micah. Rather, it's found in the biblical book of Amos -- a different Hebrew prophet. Micah might have known about Amos, since Amos prophesied in the northern kingdom of Israel a few decades before Micah's ministry in the southern kingdom, Judah. And Micah gave us another quote (identical to one in Isaiah) that's a real favorite about beating swords into plowshares; but the justice and righteousness quote comes from Amos. Finally, note taken, what an awesome and timeless charge this one for justice and righteousness.
And because I can't seem to leave it alone, how evocative the water imagery! I've just begun reading Barbara Kingsolver's essay in the April (yes, I'm a bit behind) National Geographic, an issue devoted exclusively to the topic of water. Water, water, water. Yesterday, a beautiful, breezy, and unusually warm day made for great sailing on Lake Anna. Today, the the soft misty rain puts the last of the azaleas and first rhododendrons in bright relief against deep greens. The dogs cool off in kiddie pools, and I pour another cup of tea. Rolling-down, gently flowing, water, water, water. It's all here, two parts hydrogen one part oxygen. The justice and righteousness we have to make.
