Category: bible (Page 6 of 6)

biiiiillllll brrraaasssky

The Bible maintains a bit of a reputation for being a dry read. If you start in Numbers, I might agree. On the other end of the spectrum, there’s a group of people who read it like the directions that come with your Ikea closet system. To me, that’s just as dry as reading Numbers without a historical narrative accompaniment. 

Instead, I prefer to see the story involved with the Book. Yes, yes, it’s not “just a collection of stories” as it’s much deeper than that. But nonetheless, these are the stories of the Faithful Ones, and sometimes how the story is told gives as much insight to what was happening as the actual narrative arc. This is another reason I love reading it in The Message. 
This morning I read about David’s Mighty Men (who doesn’t think of Robin’s Merry Men, especially the Men in Tights version?). These were men. Manly men. Grunt. The stories are of them slaying an entire army with a single spear… defending a field of lentils when the rest of the army retreated…. leaving a battle to run to Bethlehem for a glass of water to make David happy. 
Personally, I read these stories to the tune of the old Bill Brasky skit from SNL, inserting the names of the Mighty Men:
I love that the tales of these men is a legacy of strength and honor so big that it’s almost unbelievable. These guys were a big deal. As the stories were passed among generations, their legacy (and victories, I would venture to say) grew bigger.  
But what I also caught was the story of Abishai. I’d read about him a few chapters earlier when David gave him a special mission and his brother ganked the glory by murdering someone and covering up the body. In the description of these mighty men, it says, “He once got credit for killing three hundred with his spear, but he was never named in the same breath as The Three.” 
Wow. Harsh. And who of us hasn’t been there? The fifth wheel. The JV team. B league. 
I only read one more chapter (a listing of the Thirty, with it’s own surprise ending), so I’m waiting to see if there’s a moral at the end of the story by listing Abishai. If nothing else, the stories of lore tell us that we’re not alone. 

wash. rinse. repeat.

Some sort of psychological effect comes from hearing a message or idea too much, that it’s too common to you. It begins to loose meaning and become part of the scenery. I find this to be true at times of reading passages in the Bible that are popular preaching material; it’s difficult not to go into with “I’ve heard all this before.” Alternatively, when you approach with a posture that you will “learn something new”, quite often the shiny nugget of insight turns out to be fools’ gold, something conjured because otherwise we believe our time spent in the passage will be in vain. 

Or perhaps I’m the only one who suffers these afflictions. It might be possible that the rest of the world approaches scripture in a much healthier way. 
In any case, the story of David and Bathsheeba came through the line up. This time around my attempt was to simply let it be. Take the time to read and soak, and then move on. That was the goal. But it took me too many days. So many things jumped out at me that I needed to keep rereading. 
A summary of what I’d heard before:
“At a time when Isreal was off to war” – David was not where he was supposed to be. 
“David saw a beautiful woman” – keep your eyes out of other people’s bath tubs. 
Also, in seminary it was discussed that when this passage is brought up in an American context and the question is posed: “What was David’s sin?” the answer is largely sexual impurity. However, when posed to a non-American (specifically in our discussion, 3rd world countries), the answer is abuse of power and greed. Because I’d heard these things before, here’s what caught my attention:
 Then David confessed to Nathan, “I’ve sinned against God.” Nathan pronounced, “Yes, but that’s not the last word. God forgives your sin. You won’t die for it. But because of your blasphemous behavior, the son born to you will die.” (Ital mine).
Blasphemous? Really? It sounds quite extreme. But in Nathan’s word to David, he had explained that God gave David everything that he wanted or needed, yet David craved still more. 
Juxtaposed next to this passage is then the story of Amnon, David’s son raping Tamar, his half-sister. 
So, there was this tree. And from it fell nuts. But those nuts didn’t fall very far….
Snuggled into this story: King David heard the whole story and was enraged, but he didn’t discipline Amnon. David doted on him because he was his firstborn.
I have to wonder what David’s experiences have to teach us as parents who have screwed up some place in our own lives. Though David’s particular sin was absolved, it continued on by repeating itself through his offspring. While we want to protect those we love, how do we become honest about our mistakes and shortcomings in our lives in a way that doesn’t justify it or write it off? 
And more so, if David lived forgiven – which he was – did Amnon believe that such an act was simply forgivable and therefore he partook? I partially-read a book by the father of a drug addict who did research on the topic of parental drug use. He found that being “completely honest about past mistakes” didn’t always yield itself as a deterrent. Actually, the opposite was true. No matter the sob story you tell about how bad life was, if you’ve been able to rectify it and you end up alright, the kids generally think, “well you did it, and you ended up okay.” 
So, I don’t lobby for hiding our sin from our kids. 
And yet, living as if it didn’t have lasting consequences doesn’t seem to work either. 
Perhaps living forgiven doesn’t mean living forgotten? 
Has anyone seen this done well? How have parents you known stopped one cycle and began another? 

a gastrotheology

I’m reading yet another fabulous book, In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan (also author of The Omnivore’s Dilemma, which will likely move up my reading list queue), and need to share some thoughts. I hope i’m not infringing on copyright here, I have no idea what percent of the total book I’m going to be quoting, but i give all credits to Pollan and maybe he’ll sell another book or two and we’ll call it even.

First, the premise: Pollan is discussing the “American Diet” and the health consequences of our recent tradition of mass producing everything we consume. He alludes to the common practices of eating alone or in the car – not enjoying a meal as experience as our predecesors have. For Americans, it’s about consumption, not food (the subtitle of the book is: An Eater’s Manifesto. i’m totally an eater, so i dig it). He is a proponent of whole foods for several reasons, of which i will leave to the book. But, unbeknownst to me before i read, generally we talk about food now in terms of nutrients instead of foods, something that has a deep impact on our view of food and our eating habits. Not to mention our biblical interpretation. Keep reading, it’s good.

“Most nutrional science invoves studying one nutrient at a time, a seemingly unavoidable approach that even nutrionists who do it will tell you is deeply flawed. ‘The problem with nutrient-by-nutrient nutrition science,’ points out Marion Nestly, a NYU nutritionist, ‘is that it takes the nutrient out of the context of the food, the food out of the context of the diet and the diet out the context of the lifestyle.’
“If nutrition scientists know this, why do they do it anyway? Because a nutrient bias is built into the way science is done. Scientists study variables they can isolate; if they can’t isolate a variable, they won’t be able to tell whether its presence or absence is meaningful. yet even the simplist food is a hopelessly complicated thing to analyze, a virtual wilderness of chemical compounds, many of which exist in intricate and dynamic relation to one another, and all of which together are in process of changing from one state to another. So if you’re a nutrition scientist you do the only thing you can do, given the tools at your disposal: Break the thing down into its component parts and study those one by one, even if that means ignoring subtle interactions and contexts and the fact that the whole may well be more than, or maybe just different from, the sum of its parts. This is what we mean by reductionist science.
… it encourages us to take a simple mechanistic view of that transaction: put in this nutrient, get out that physiological result. Yet people differ in important ways…”

i don’t think Pollan needs much explaining here. By looking at the little things outside of the big picture, we may miss something. He gives examples of the FDA advising people to increase intake of a particular vitamin, yet when this is done in isolation, rather than by ingesting the whole carrot, there is actually an increase chance of heart disease (or other named-by-Pollan malady, i’m not going to look it up).

it’s funny that when it comes to food, we’re trying to get the smallest form of the good thing. we’ll buy cereal with added potassium rather than eating a banana or potato. Why? There’s nothing wrong with the nana or the tater. (Pollan has his hypothesis in the food industry…). In fact, the nana and the tater are actually better than the marketed and labeled cereal with added in “nutrients.”

i’ve seen a similar approach to living the quote/unquote christian life. we have some reductionist tendencies when we read the scripture, minimizing things down the smallest letter of the can and can-nots rather than enjoying the whole of the life we’re directed to live – one of love, faith, charity and peace. when you live in such a manner, you will naturally fall in line with they nitty gritty details that eons of church history has split hairs over. if we’d just eat the carrot, we’d get what we need.

i woke up the other morning quite perterbed about an imaginary discussion i was having with a friend over a social issue upon which christians have a tendency to pounce. regardless of my view of said social issue, i have real qualms over the way it’s been handled by both congregants and leaderships alike. maybe we need to stop worrying whether s/he is getting enough vitamin X and just offer them a carrot. and make sure we’re eating our carrots as well – maybe we’re not vitamin X deficient, but there are plenty of vits and minerals that we could be lacking. however, that is not our habit. instead, we offer them artificial supplements, trying to change their vitamin intake of something we only think would fix their life. but what they need is a carrot. we’re no different than the Pharisees trying to stump Jesus with “but who is my neighbor?”. Reductionist theology in it’s finest.

we have no idea how the whole picture fits together, we only know how to enjoy the whole food, in a whole diet, in a whole lifestyle. and if it’s manufactured and labeled healthy, it’s probably not. the real stuff doesn’t need a label because a carrot doesn’t lie (though the ones in my garden taste much better than the ones in the grocery store!). and you can’t manufacture love, faith, charity or peace. there is no substitute or supplement.

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