Showing posts with label Dei Verbum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dei Verbum. Show all posts

Sunday, July 3, 2016

Influence & Interpretation

            It has certainly been awhile since my last post. My apologies. There were many loose ends to tie up in the month of May, and since then I also have been traveling quite a bit on the road – never mind the fact that vacation time has made me lazy. I know: excuses, excuses. In truth, I began a post at the start of June, but I found myself dissatisfied with its content, so, like the potter of Jeremiah 18:1-4, I've started over... and over. After several attempts, I am desperate to post something (anything) on this blog, so I'm keeping today's post a little shorter. I can hear the sighs of relief already.



            The recent attack on our LGBT brothers and sisters in Orlando, as well as the general increase in mass shootings over the years, have weighed heavy on my mind. It has me pondering what sort of influential factors – aside from mental illness – feed the kinds of ideologies that lead to such tragedies. I'm well aware of the powerful role that religion and sacred literature play in our lives – largely for good, but sometimes for ill when they are misconstrued. So, as one who writes about Scripture, it concerns me that poor interpretations of sacred writings sometimes contribute to humanity's worst atrocities, from hate crimes to all out war. I'm not drawing a direct link between the Bible and hate crimes or terrorism, but I do think it is necessary to ask ourselves, Do the Scriptures draw me to love my neighbor? Why or why not? How does Scripture influence my image of God? What, then, does that image of God incite within me? Fear? Hate? Love? Peace?

            One of the reasons why the Bible is often grossly misunderstood is that many people, even very well-intentioned people, take a fundamentalist approach to Scripture. But the Pontifical Biblical Commission (i.e. the Catholic Church's committee to ensure proper interpretation of Scripture – let it never be said that the Catholic Church doesn't care about the Bible) has some interesting things to say about this sort of take on Sacred Scripture.

"Fundamentalist interpretation starts from the principle that the Bible, being the Word of God, inspired and free from error, should be read and interpreted literally in all its details. But by 'literal interpretation' it understands a naively literalist interpretation, one, that is to say, which excludes every effort at understanding the Bible that takes account of its historical origins and development."[1]
But wait, it gets better. The Commission goes on to say,
"The fundamentalist approach is dangerous, for it is attractive to people who look to the Bible for ready answers to problems of life. It can deceive these people, offering them interpretations that are pious and illusory, instead of telling them that the Bible does not necessarily contain an immediate answer to each and every problem. Without saying as much in so many words, fundamentalism actually invites people to a kind of intellectual suicide" (emphasis mine).[2]

            The Bible is not a history book. It is not a science book. It isn't even a handbook of morality. True, the Scriptures can be a rich source of encouragement, consolation, moral exhortation or reprimand, and certainly of truths about who God is and our relationship with God. Indeed, short phrases and passages from the Bible are frequently quoted and read in everything from greeting cards to Sunday Mass readings so that the Word of God might touch us in these very ways. But, as we strive to understand what God is saying to us in these sacred texts, it is important to keep in mind that the human authors, through whom the Holy Spirit worked, wrote in a particular time and place in history. They had their own culture, their own language and literary styles, and their own limited understanding of the natural sciences. Therefore, as stated in Dei Verbum (the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation by Vatican II), "in order to see clearly what God wanted to communicate to us, [the interpreter] should carefully investigate what meaning the sacred writers really intended, and what God wanted to manifest by means of their words."[3]

            Okay, I've been on my soapbox long enough. (Actually it is the Church's soapbox, as I have spent most of my time quoting Church documents.) If the fundamentalist approach to Scripture is so abhorrent, if we want to avoid "intellectual suicide," what, then, are we to do with Scripture? Knowing that the Bible should not always be taken literally, a number of folks have asked me plainly, "How should we interpret the Bible?" A complex question, indeed, and I said I'd keep this post brief today.

            There is no short answer to this query. Theologians, biblical scholars, and even some of the authors of Scripture themselves have been wrestling with questions about biblical interpretation for millennia. I return to my Shrek-inspired assessment of Scripture: "The Bible is like an onion; it has layers." Layers of meaning, that is. My first inclination, as Dei Verbum suggests, is to explore the historical, cultural, and literary context, but that takes some research, and not everyone has the time or resources for that - though I'd like to draw your attention to some websites listed in the top right-hand corner, particularly "Bible Research" and "Bible Odyssey." But if your reading Scripture for your spiritual benefit, without tomes of biblical exegesis, and want to know how best to approach these texts, I would say look to Jesus, the very Word made flesh, and keep in mind the bigger picture.


            If we want to avoid the kinds of corrupt biblical misinterpretations that lead to prejudice, hate and violence, we should remember that the Word of God tells a story of a God who brings forth life, who wants to be in relationship with humanity, who calls his people to faithfulness, who loves his people, poor, lowly, and faltering though they are. It is a story about how God saves his people, sometimes from outside forces but often from the very calamities they incur from their own mistakes. And if you read the Gospels you find that this story reaches a climax in the person of Jesus. In him the saving God, who desires to be in relationship with his people, becomes flesh and dwells among us, ultimately laying down his own life that we may be saved.

            You also find that this story continues today beyond the pages of Scripture in the lives of those who have united themselves to Christ, who have died and risen in Christ. You see it in the lives of those who suffer, in the poor and those who radically depend on God, in those who long for justice, in those who heal and show mercy, in those who rise up from the ashes of destruction and usher in new life, and in those who love without counting the cost. This is the biblical story alive in our world today!



            If you want an interpretive lens for reading the Bible, examine the life of Christ, and remember that our saving God desires to be near to us, heal us, and make us whole. This is not an exhaustive account of biblical interpretation. Oh honey, there are many, many more layers left unpeeled. Yet if we read the Scriptures keeping these things in mind, perhaps we can curb the hate and violence that is born from ideologies based in literalist and corrupt interpretations of the Bible.

            For this week I suggest reading Isaiah 54, but read it in light of the bigger picture of Scripture, of God's saving and loving relationship with humanity. Behind this portion of Isaiah we have God's chosen people, who have been in exile in Babylon for decades. Whether or not it was due to poor politics and inferior defenses, the people of Judah believed they were in exile because of their infidelity to God. But, at last, the Babylonian empire falls to Persia, and God's chosen are free to return to the Promised Land. Thus the prophet speaks tenderly to the people, revealing to them God's love, mercy, and desire to reunite himself to them despite the sins of their past. You can read innumerable passages in the Bible referring to God's blazing wrath – I won't deny that they're in there – but ultimately it all comes back to God's love for his people. So as you read this, ask yourself, How does this affect my image of God? Do I see myself in this passage? How? How might my relationship with my neighbor be affected by a message like this one? Meanwhile, let us pray and work for peace in our world, for mercy, and for the increase of tolerance. Until next time...

Peace and all good!




[1] Pontifical Biblical Commission, "The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church," The Scripture Documents: An Anthology of Official Catholic Teaching, ed. & trans. by Dean P. Béchard (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2002), 273.

[2] Ibid., 275.

[3] Second Vatican Council, Dei Verbum (1965), no. 12, accessed June 14, 2016, http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_const_19651118_dei-verbum_en.html.

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Word Up!

            Since the end of January, I've been writing about how human beings wrote the words of Scripture as well as how they compiled and canonized those texts. Most people, I think, are aware of this reality; they recognize that the Bible didn't just drop from Heaven. Yet for some, there's still something a little unnerving about the human origins of something considered so sacred. How can we say this is the "Word of God" when clearly humans were generating and sanctioning these texts?

            To approach this, I must appeal to the Vatican II document, Dei Verbum. In 1965, the Church officially put forth this document (a.k.a. The Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation) which explains the Church's long held – and sometimes not so well clarified – understanding of Sacred Scripture and Tradition. It asserts that the Scriptures "have God as their author" but that "in composing the sacred Books, God chose and employed certain men, who, while engaged in this task, made full use of their faculties and powers..." (DV, paragraph 11). Now I'll admit, that does sound rather convenient to simply say, 'well God is still the author, but he used men kind of like scribes to get his message across.' If that was the case, you'd think the Scriptures wouldn't have so many embarrassingly violent laws, prophecies, and stories in them. But that isn't what Dei Verbum is getting at. The Scriptures were inspired, yes, but I don't think it means the human authors had the Holy Spirit whispering to them the exact words to write.

            One of the first things I think we need to understand is that God's Word is more encompassing than mere words on a page. God's Word is powerful. Consider that in ancient times when a king spoke, his word alone had the power to effect change. The king spoke, and schtuff got done. Sure, maybe the action was carried out by other people, but it was only because the king said it – as Pharaoh iconically says in the movie, The Ten Commandments:  "So let it be written. So let it be done." Likewise God speaks, and schtuff happens: "'Let there be light.' And there was light" (Genesis 1:3). God's Word is effective and creative! As it says in Isaiah: "Yet just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth... So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me empty, but shall do what pleases me, achieving the end for which I sent it" (Isaiah 55:10-11).

            Interestingly enough, I find that urban and prison slang has a better sense of the term "word" for our purposes today. In such contexts word can mean an "affirmation" (yep, mm-hmm, I agree), "approval," "truth," or "to speak the truth."[1] For example:

Me: That moment when Edith finally tells off Mary on Downton Abbey was priceless!

Fellow D.A. Enthusiast: Word!

            I would put a link to UrbanDictionary.com, so you can get an even better sense of the slang usage of "word," but there's some inappropriate language on that page, and I wouldn't want to scandalize my mother who I'm sure is reading this right now. (Hi, Mom!) You can type in the web address and can check it out at your own risk if you want, or just take my word for it. (No pun intended.)

            The point, however, is that 90s urban slang has its finger on the pulse of what "word" in the biblical sense is about, because in both cases it means more than just human language. From the perspective of Urban Dictionary, God's Word is like a resounding "Yes!" permeating all that is – "God looked at everything he had made, and found it very good" (Gen 1:31). God's Word is Truth. God's Word is positive. God's Word is living!

from www.worldofdtcmarketing.com


            Both the Greek and Hebrew terms for "word" have multiple meanings. The Greek word, logos – from where we get our word logic – can mean a lot of things: "reason," "divine utterance," or an "expression of a thought" being some of them.[2] Likewise, the Hebrew word dabar can mean a matter, event, or affair and also has a connection to reason.[3] God's Word isn't just the words that God speaks or those written down in Scripture; it's all of the reason, truth, thoughts, and ideas that are behind and communicated through those words. God's Word is God's self-communication! And what Dei Verbum is saying is that God used human beings, in a particular time and place, and of a particular culture with its own limited language, to communicate God's self in the Sacred Scriptures.

            Admittedly though, the fact that human beings were so closely involved in the process of divine revelation might drive some people nuts. With so much human particularity how can the scriptures communicate such an ultimate and universal message like the Word of God? But then – oh, and I just love this – this is precisely what happens in the incarnation, for Jesus is the Word made flesh (i.e. the Incarnate Word)! Jesus Christ is God revealed to us in a particular and limited time (early first century CE), place (Palestine), culture (Palestinian Jewish), gender (male), and age (I don't think Jesus lived much beyond his early thirties).

            One of the greatest and most delectable mysteries of the incarnation is that the infiniteness and universality of God was willingly emptied and made limited in time and space in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness... (Philippians 2:6-7a). So just as Jesus is God's self revealed in a human way (in weakness and with limitations), so too the Scriptures are divine revelation communicated in limited human language and culture. Or, as Dei Verbum so beautifully puts it, "For the words of God, expressed in human language, have become like unto human speech, just as the Word of the eternal Father, when he took on himself the flesh of human weakness, became like unto human beings" (DV, paragraph 13).

St. Francis in Prayer Before the Crucifix, El Greco, 1585-1590

            By the way, as a Franciscan and a graduate of the University of the Incarnate Word, incarnational spirituality is a particular fancy of mine almost by default.

Chapel of the Incarnate Word at UIW. Go Cardinals!

            I guess the bottom line of what I'm getting at is that God's word is fleshy business, and the Word of God is revealed to us in two very human ways: obviously in the human person of Jesus, but also in the very human language and culture of Sacred Scripture. Either way, though, the word of God is more than the words on a page. It is living, and God wants to write it on our hearts. As a biblical studies nerd, I am fascinated by all of the humanness of Sacred Scripture, and I'm eager to learn more about its historical, anthropological, and literary context. Yet for all of its human qualities and limitations, I do not criticize it as irrelevant or even dated. I know that the Word of the Lord continues to speak the Truth; It continues to reveal God's self. But in order to listen to it, I must look upon and accept the human face of Scripture, and, likewise, I must look to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, who is the human face of God.

            I know that this week is Holy Week and that it would be all the more appropriate to recommend to you readings from the Passion or Resurrection narratives of the Gospels.* So, if you have the time, by all means please sit with those passages! Of course, I also recommend attending the liturgies of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter where you will also hear those readings. However, it makes sense, given today's topic of word, to read John 1:1-18. Yes, I agree, this reading seems out of place for Holy Week, but whatever. I've got to run with the inspiration I'm given. It's a short passage, but as you read it meditate for just a bit on that profound mystery of the very Word of God becoming flesh. Consider how God spoke through the Law and Prophets, yet finally in Jesus was fully revealed. Consider also how Jesus fulfills the Scriptures and is the very lens for interpreting them. Contemplate, especially as we enter deeply into the sacred mysteries of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection – what we call the Paschal Mystery – how these events in the life of Christ reveal God's grace, truth, and glory.

            As always, I welcome questions and comments on Facebook, Twitter, e-mail (biblecodega.gmail.com), or in the comment box below. I pray that you all enjoy these high holy days of the Christian calendar and have a blessed Easter. I leave you today with the words of St. Paul to the Thessalonians for you to consider the next time you hear the lector at Mass say, "The Word of the Lord."

           "We too give thanks to God unceasingly, that, in receiving the word of God from hearing us, you received not a human word but, as it truly is, the word of God, which is now at work in you who believe" (1 Thessalonians 2:13).

Word!

* Passion and Resurrection Narratives:
Matthew 26:1-28:20
Mark 14:12-16:20
Luke 22:1-24:53
John 18:1-21:25




[1] Urban Dictionary, "Word," last modified October 14, 2005, accessed March 20, 2016. http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Word.

[2] Bible Hub, "3056. Logos," accessed March 20, 2016, http://biblehub.com/greek/3056.htm.

[3] Bible Hub, "1697. Dabar," accessed March 20, 2016, http://biblehub.com/hebrew/1697.htm.

Friday, March 4, 2016

Making the Cut: Where did the Bible come from? Part V

            Two weeks ago I wrote up a whirlwind tour of the books of the New Testament (NT) and just barely scratched the surface of who wrote these texts and when. The big question that has often been asked of me, though, is Who decided what got in? How did these 27 books become the NT? I'll be honest, the answer to these and similar questions is complex, but, since I'm ready to move on from this "Where did the Bible come from?" series, I'll try to be as succinct as possible. (I hear a sigh of relief.)

            First, a couple of things to keep in mind:

1.) Faith in Jesus Christ preceded the writings of the NT.

2.) The Church, (i.e. the community of believers and followers of Christ) existed before the Christian Scriptures were composed.

3.) Most, if not all of the books of the NT were written for audiences that already believed that Jesus was the Christ – albeit, these audiences probably needed some theological clarification about their beliefs and how they should live, which is what prompted many of the NT writings to begin with.

            A fine example of some of the above points are the early Christian hymns and creedal statements that were incorporated into the Scriptures. If you take a look at Philippians 2:6-11 (one of my favorite passages in Scripture, by the way) you have what appears to be a hymn about Christ that was possibly used in community worship. What it says about Jesus is so fitting and true, that Paul integrates it into his letter to the Philippians. Whether it was sung or not is beside the point, but try to imagine this as a song, short and catchy enough for people to learn it and sing it by memory. Of course, memories were probably a lot more adept back then because people didn't have buttons, phones, and Google remembering everything for them. Thus a profound truth about Christ issued from the community of believers and was passed down orally through this lyrical poem before it ever became "Scripture" as we know it today. In effect, this Truth was handed down to believers through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit by means of *drum roll* Sacred Tradition.

GIF from www.yorehistory.wordpress.com


            The Catholic rebuttal to Martin Luther's insistence on "Scripture alone" is that both Scripture and Tradition "form one sacred deposit of the word of God, committed to the Church."[1] But what is Sacred Tradition anyway? Let me be quite clear that it is not customs or disciplines in the Church –like not eating meat on Fridays during Lent. Those things are "traditions" with a lower-case 't' and have little to do with essential beliefs and teachings of the Church. Just remember that if you accidently eat meat on Friday this Lent. Rather, Sacred Tradition is that "living transmission" of the word of God "accomplished in the Holy Spirit" through the Apostles and their successors, which "includes everything which contributes toward the holiness of life and increase in faith of the peoples of God."[2] Basically, it's the faith and Truth in which the Church believes that has been passed down orally by the Apostles and their successors.

            Why this lengthy – and somewhat boring – tangent about Sacred Tradition? (Bless you, by the way, if you're still reading.) It's because the composition of the NT and the selection of which books became canonized rests on this issue of Tradition. Sacred Scripture and Tradition are not opposed to or in competition with one another. That would be ridiculous! Rather the two inform and complement one another. Tradition is informed by the written Word, and Scripture was written as a result of oral transmissions of the faith and is interpreted in light of Tradition. It's like love and marriage... that go together like a horse and carriage. This I tell you brother: you can't have one without the other. Thank you Frank Sinatra.

            So as I mentioned in the last post, the earliest NT writings were the letters of Paul. Such writings, though some were intended for particular audiences, were shared among many other local church communities. Moreover, like the Torah and Prophets, which were obviously considered sacred by the early Church, these Christian writings were read aloud in liturgy when the community came together for worship. Likewise, the Gospels and the other NT writings were used in this way, and many of them were cited by leaders in the early Church in their own letters.

            According to Luke Timothy Johnson – without whose book, The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation, this post would not be possible (gotta give props where props are due, folks), "As writings were exchanged, local churches began to build collections that were more extensive than those written specifically to them."[3]  Eventually, local churches within the catholic (and by catholic I mean universal) Church had collections of Christian writings; some books of which were common to most local churches, but other books were favored by a minority. So while some of these collections agreed on certain books, like the letters of Paul, they differed on others.

            Surprisingly, however, evidence shows that within the early Church there was actually a great deal of agreement on which Christian writings were considered sacred. An early Latin document known as the Muratorian Fragment contains a list of canonical books that includes the four Gospels and Acts, the letters of Paul, the first two letters of John, the letter of Jude, and Revelation. While it leaves out some books from today's canon (3 John, 1 & 2 Peter, James, and Hebrews), it also included some books that are not in our NT: for example, the Apocalypse of Peter and the Shepherd of Hermas. (Ever hear of these books?) However, it concedes that the Shepherd of Hermas should not be read in worship, and it was debatable as to whether the Apocalypse of Peter should be or not.[4]

Image from http://www.bible-researcher.com/muratorian.html

            In a roundabout way I have so far hinted at some of the criteria the early Church deferred to in the complex and lengthy process of selecting which Christian writings would be part of Scripture. Here are some of the standards that influenced the canonization process.

1.) Did it have apostolic historicity? Did it seem to derive from the apostles or at least those who knew them? Again, much like the books of the Jewish canon, the older a text was the more authority it carried. Books written too late would not make the cut.

2.) Did it conform to the tradition of faith that had been handed down to them? That is, did it reflect the faith they had come to believe and know to be true, or did it reflect a heretical teaching? Thus, my lengthy tangent about Sacred Tradition.

3.) Was it read publicly in liturgy? Or better yet, should it be read in liturgy? It seems like the Shepherd of Hermas was a popular, early Christian text and not a bad one to read, but it apparently didn't have the authority to be read in church.

4.) Was it used widely among the universal Church, or was it only accepted or rejected by a handful of local churches?

5.) Did it have "universal pertinence"?[5] In other words, was it applicable to all of the Church in every place and in all times?

            I don't want to over-simplify this complex process of canonization. It is not like the early Church fathers got around a poker table with this list of criteria and a deck of potential NT books, folding if the text didn't meet enough standards and laying down royal flushes if it did. That would have been rather entertaining if it had been the case, though, I must say. And to that end I would love to see a tapestry much like the one of dogs playing poker with Athanasius, Irenaeus, Eusebius, and Origen seated around the table instead.* In any case, as the early Church discerned which books ought to be considered Scripture alongside those writings inherited from their Jewish ancestry, these standards were surely factors that guided this organic process of canonization.

It's not how it happened, but it's funny to imagine nonetheless


            It should be noted that not every book we have in the NT was readily agreed upon by every local church. There was much debate concerning the inclusion of the Book of Revelation (not surprisingly, as that book's trippy) and even some hesitancy around the Gospel of John. These books obviously made it in, but some were vehemently rejected. The Muratorian Fragment is adamant that certain letters attributed to Paul which actually derived from a heretic named Marcion as well as the Gnostic writings of Valentinus and Basilides should be not be accepted at all.[6] Early Church fathers like Eusebius, Irenaeus, and Athanasius all railed against writings considered heretical.

            How I would love to say a few things about the heresy of Gnosticism and its writings, but I'm running long as it is. I will say, however, that if you're wondering about such texts like the so-called Gospels of Peter, Mary Magdalene, or Judas, I will tell you straight up right now. Those and other such "gospels" were A.) not written by those to whom they were attributed, for, as I mentioned in my last post, writing under a different name was quite common back then. B.) These books were written much later than the NT writings, probably in the 2nd and 3rd centuries. And C.) they derived from heretical Gnostic beliefs and teachings that ran contrary to the orthodox Tradition that had been passed down in the early Church. I hope to devote a post to Gnosticism and their writings in the future, because it's a sick and twisted heretical movement, though admittedly quite fascinating, but let's just leave it there for now.

            So okay, some books were readily accepted, some debated, and some unequivocally nixed. At what point, then, did the early Church have a canonical list of the 27 books of the NT that we know and love today? In his Paschal Letter (367 CE) the bishop of Alexandria, St. Athanasius, includes those 27 books and even refers to them as the "springs of salvation."  In 397 the North African Council of Carthage decided on such a list that included those 27 and no more, stating that these "are to be read in church as divine Scripture." These 27 books for the most part went unchallenged until the Reformation of the 16th century, but the Council of Trent in 1546, as well as the Church of England shortly thereafter, reaffirmed the authority and canonicity of these books.[7] 

          So there you have it. As I mentioned in the last post, the books of the NT were composed within about a hundred years after Jesus' death and resurrection. And then less than three hundred years after that it was pretty much decided which Christian Scriptures would be part of the biblical canon. Ain't that something?

            For this week, since much of this post had to do with the complementary nature of Sacred Scripture and Tradition, I suggest reading 2 Timothy 2:1-26 and 3:10-17. In these passages we hear Paul writing from prison to encourage one of his successors, Timothy, to remain steadfast to the Gospel he has preached and is now in chains for proclaiming. He urges him to resist false teaching but not to engage in useless and quarrelsome debates, correcting opponents instead with kindness. He affirms Timothy's life of faith, love, patience, and endurance in suffering and reminds him to remain faithful to what he has learned and what he knows from Scripture. As you read this passage, considered what you have come to know and believe from the faith that has been handed onto you. What do you know to be true – about God, Jesus Christ, life in the Spirit, our relationship with God and one another? How has it "trained you for righteousness," made you more loving, peaceful, patient, or less quarrelsome? How has it brought you into conflict, and how have you responded? What about the Christian faith and Gospel message challenges you, and how might you pray to God for perseverance?

            I will be taking another hiatus from blogging for the next couple of weeks in order to work on some other things for this project, but I greatly appreciate your readership and spreading the word about Bible Codega. It has been a tremendous help as I complete the practicum for my M.A. I still encourage questions and comments via e-mail, Facebook, Twitter, or the comment box below. And while I might not put up a new post for some time, I'll still be responding to questions. Until next time, may you have a blessed remainder of the Lenten season and happy reading of Scripture.

Peace and all good!




[1] Dei Verbum,  10 §1.
[2]  Catechism of the Catholic Church, 78. and Dei Verbum, 8 §1.
[3] Luke Timothy Johnson, The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation, Rev. ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1999), 597.
[4] Ibib., 600-601
[5] Johnson, 600.
[6] Ibid., 601.
[7] Ibid., 603.
* For the record, I'm pretty sure Athanasius, Irenaeus, Eusebius, and Origen were never even in the same room altogether.

Monday, January 4, 2016

Truth, Mystery, the Bible, and... Harry Potter?

          Happy New Year! I wasn't planning on writing this week, but I had a bit of time and thought I'd write something before I get off the grid for awhile. I've been doing some thinking lately about the concept of the truth of Scripture and how best to approach that topic. As I mentioned last week, there is a difference between Truth and fact, particularly when it comes to the Bible. This can be a tricky concept for our post-modern, western minds to wrap around. In fact, many of the questions I receive about the Scriptures directly or indirectly pertain to this topic. In light of this, I couldn't help but muse about literature in general, and specifically (because I was watching some of the movies over the holidays) the Harry Potter novels. Given this theme, today's post probably won't be the most scholarly, but that's also because I didn't have time to do a lot of research through commentaries and textbooks either. But why not start off the new year with a lighter fare anyway?

            Whenever we think about something we know to be true, we usually think of that which can be measured and proven. For example, we know it's true that the earth revolves around the sun. We can observe that, measure it, and prove it scientifically. But other kinds of truth cannot be measured. I believe it is true that every single human person has innate dignity. Yet we can't measure this, and we can't prove it, because dignity is not something we can necessarily observe and evaluate with our five senses. Likewise, things such as goodness, love, beauty, suffering, evil, and salvation, are not quantifiable, but that doesn't mean we deny their existence. God himself is not measurable (or gendered, so forgive my use of the masculine pronoun), and frankly, I wouldn't want much to do with a god who could be scientifically proven anyway. That is where faith steps in, because ultimately it takes a leap of faith to have belief in and a relationship with some reality that is so beyond conclusive evidence.
           
            All of these kinds of realities – God, love, goodness, evil, suffering, etc. – are mysteries, which isn't to say they are mysteriously unknowable but that they are infinitely knowable. We can never exhaust our exploration and knowledge of mysteries and the ultimate truths of the universe. No matter how much we come to discover about them we will always find ourselves digging for more. (For the record, I cannot take credit for the concept that a mystery is something that is infinitely knowable. I heard it at a retreat from a woman who was quoting a deceased friar, Howard Hansen, and I don't know whether it was original to him or if he got it from somewhere else. Either way, he made an excellent point.)

            Now, just because God and love, and goodness, and suffering, and all the like are not measurable, provable categories, that does not mean that they aren't communicated and revealed to us. Love is not something we can look at under a microscope, but we can experience physical signs and manifestations of love: a warm embrace, a kiss, generous giving, actions of self-sacrifice. Similarly, the word of God in Scripture – and ultimately the Incarnate Word, Jesus Christ – makes known to us the mystery of who God is. Just as an aside, this is also the way sacraments function. They are visible signs that point to and make manifest God's invisible grace. Even beyond the seven sacraments of the Church there are many other ways in which we experience God's grace in signs and symbols. But I digress. The point is that mysteries may not be quantifiable, yet even still, we can never exhaust our knowledge of them. Furthermore, they are revealed to us, communicated in signs, deeds, the person of Jesus Christ, Sacred Scripture and even literature, art, and music... but today we're just going to focus on literature.

            I've heard from friars and professors alike that the quickest way to the truth is through a story. Obviously this does not refer to the kind of stories your children might tell you in order to cover up the truth, because the only thing those stories are the quickest way to is a time-out... or a wooden spoon... or more chores. (I don't know; I clearly don't parent children). Regardless, this is a motto I can enthusiastically get behind, because I love a good story. I have a mild – though some might say exorbitant – obsession with Sondheim & Lapine's Into the Woods (the play, not the movie). I even wrote my term paper in moral theology on this show, and with that being said, I could go on and on about the musical. Instead, I'll just reference one of the more poignant lines sung by the Witch in the Finale: "Careful the tale you tell," she cautions the audience, "that is the spell." And ain't that the truth!

            Fairytales, fables, myths, parables, and all other kinds of stories are our teachers, and so we should be careful of the stories we tell. Hopefully the stories we hear as children or as adults teach us truth and not lies, for the latter can have disastrous effects! Where would we be, though, without the wisdom of stories? Little Red Ridinghood teaches us not to talk to strangers, and the Three Little Pigs urges us to make practical, well-thought-out decisions. Many of the Greek myths have so artfully depicted the realities of the human condition that we still make allusions to them in our everyday lives (Achilles' heel, Sisyphus' boulder, Cupid's arrow, Pandora's box, etc.). And frequently, Greek mythology warns us against a critical human weakness: arrogance (or hubris). Jesus himself used stories, and his parables reveal to us the mysteries of the Kingdom, of God's love, justice, and mercy, and how we are to relate with one another as human beings. All of these examples are merely stories, but they are more than mere fiction. They cannot easily be cast aside as irrelevant simply because they are not grounded in historical or scientific fact... which finally brings me to Harry Potter.




            As I said, over the holidays I was watching some of the movies because they were on television... and because Harry Potter is awesome. Point blank. If you are ever looking for a contemporary example of literature that is imbued with the kind of truth that I'm referring to – the truth that has to do with the mystery of love and suffering and of goodness and death (maybe not about God though) – then look no further than Harry Potter. I could have suggested The Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Narnia, I suppose, since they are more explicitly Christian in origin and influence, but I have not read those books (though I highly recommend them). Either way, Truth is not bound by those things which are directly connected with the Judeo-Christian tradition, which means it can even be found within other religious beliefs. After all, as stated in the Vatican II document, Nostra Aetate "the Catholic Church rejects nothing that is true and holy in these religions," including Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, etc. (Nostra Aetate, paragraph 2).

            Now obviously, Harry Potter is not a religion (according to most people), and it is not my intention to put the kind of truth that can be gleaned from its voluminous pages on par with the truth and goodness found in our world's religions. All I'm trying to illustrate is that the Truth, the wisdom of God, has a way of being conveyed in and through mediums that are both secular and religious and in cultures and religions that may or may not be directly associated with the Judeo-Christian tradition. The fullness of Truth might not exist within them, but we can still learn something valuable from the arts, and other religions and cultures. Okay, off my soapbox. Now back to Harry Potter.

            As I was watching bits from films Six and Seven (parts I & II), I couldn't help but think of a few themes that certainly harmonize with some of the truths I have come to understand through the Scriptures. If you haven't read the books or at the very least seen the movies, I am very sorry. No. Siriusly, my heart aches for you, and be warned that I'll be throwing out spoilers. If you have, then you might agree with me when I say that J.K. Rowling definitely has her finger on the pulse of some universal truths. Take for instance the message we get from Lilly Potter's self-sacrificing love for her son. Because of her love, Harry is saved, and the forces of evil are defeated. I'm not saying that Lilly Potter is a metaphor for Jesus. I'm not even suggesting that J.K. Rowling was influenced by the Gospel tradition. All I'm saying is that the message we get from Rowling's masterful story-telling taps into a universal truth about the power of love, especially self-sacrificing love. It just so happens that this Truth is divinely revealed to us in Scripture and in the person of Jesus Christ, who is the Incarnate Word of God, "the way, the truth, and the life" (John 14:6). We also know from Scripture that even among the three theological virtues (faith, hope, and love) that "the greatest of these is love" (1 Corinthians 13:13). For a great explanation of love, by the way, read all of 1 Corinthians 13.

            Another example of the utterance of Truth in the Harry Potter series is in the way Rowling approaches death in these novels. The villain, Voldemort, has this inordinate fear of death – so much so that he literally tears apart his soul in order to avoid it. Harry, on the other hand, eventually comes to embrace death, and in doing so, is able to defeat his enemy. It's a hard pill to swallow – this notion of life through the willing acceptance of death – because I know that many of us prefer not to think of death too much, but Rowling is on to something, something I know to be True because of the Good News that is Jesus Christ. In accepting death Christ has conquered the grave and has given us new life. "He humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name..." (Philippians 2:8-9). The whole mystery of Christ's death and resurrection has a proper name in the Christian tradition, by the way. It is called the Paschal Mystery, and it is that mystery which permeates the whole of the Christian life, celebration, and story. It is not the theme of today's posts, and no length of writing or depth of contemplation will ever fully plumb the depths of its ineffable profundity, but I will say this: the paschal mystery changes everything. More about that in another post, I hope.

            Again, I'm not saying Harry Potter is a metaphor for Jesus or that Rowling intentionally wrote Harry's character to reflect the Paschal Mystery. Many differences appear between the two anyway. However, I think that the message of life through death, of victory through dying, is transcendent. It is obviously part of the Gospel message because it is of the wisdom of God, and God reveals this to us in Jesus and in the sacred texts. But because it is so transcendent and because the Holy Spirit is so irrepressible, this kind of Truth just naturally spills out into the universe – in literature, music, art, culture, and religions of all kinds.

            Interestingly enough, J.K. Rowling even includes in her seventh Harry Potter novel an original, wizarding fairytale that articulates this very theme of embracing death. If you recall from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Hermione reads "The Tale of the Three Brothers." You can click on the title yourself to hear Emma Watson as Hermione read the whole story with graceful and haunting narration, but note the very last line: "He then greeted death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, departing this life as equals." I love what Rowling does here for two reasons. 1.) It reflects a truth that, as we can see, is found within the biblical and Christian spiritual tradition. St. Francis of Assisi, for example, embraced death as a "sister" at the end of his life as depicted in his Canticle of the Creatures. And 2.) Rowling has demonstrated the power of myth and storytelling through the brilliant literary device of a story-within-a-story. Even her fictional characters come to a deeper appreciation of the mystery of death by means of what? A fairytale.

            And so I return to my point. This is one of the things I mean when I say that the Scriptures are concerned with the Truth, though not necessarily with historical or scientific fact. Its concern, rather, is the truth about those things which cannot be measured, those moral wisdoms, those mysteries that are infinitely knowable yet never fully known (at least not in this life): God, love, goodness, suffering, mercy, death, evil, salvation, sin, justice, resurrection, the Paschal Mystery, etc. I use literature as an example because what we find in things like fairytales, myths, fables, and, yes, even Harry Potter are narratives that speak the truth even though they are completely fictional. I don't know whether or not J.K. Rowling purposefully intended for her story to have such Christ-like themes. Personally, I'm hoping that she did not intend it, for that just goes to show that there is a universality to the Christian message of love, self-sacrifice, and life through death. It demonstrates my point that Truth and the wisdom of God is transcendent and will find a way to speak to us. In my opinion, western society simply needs to recover an appreciation for narrative, mythology, symbols, and poetry in order to perceive the truth that is in its midst.
           
            In drawing upon stories, like Harry Potter, I'm not trying to say that the Bible is pure fiction. But the Bible is literature – albeit, sacred literature , some of which is even rooted in history. I am also not insinuating that just because different kinds of literary works can bear witness to the truth of various mysteries of life that Sacred Scripture should therefore be ignored or dismissed. That would be absurd. Sacred Scripture reveals the Truth of the mystery of God. It is God's self-revelation. The Church holds both Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition as a source of revealed truth, as the Vatican II document on Divine Revelation says, they "together form a single deposit of the Word of God" (Dei Verbum, paragraph 10). The fullness of Truth and God's self-communication, I believe, can be found within these means, though perhaps not exhausted by them. Even Scripture and Tradition are mediated by human language, and the mystery of God inevitably exceeds even that and will ultimately leave us speechless. Nevertheless, Sacred Scripture remains for us one of the ways in which God communicates God's self.

            I hope that some of this helps as a kind of introduction to interpreting the Bible. Humanity is inspired so much by movies, books, songs and poetry and, through them, drawn deeper into the mysteries of life. They touch our souls and tickle our brains, and sometimes they even move us to tears. So it is with Scripture, only more so! For it isn't just any narrative or poem or oracle that we encounter in these sacred texts, but God's very self-revelation.

            With regard to reading the Bible, I quote Franciscan priest, Richard Rohr: "Read more poetry, literature, and mythology, would be my advice. Then we can trust you with the Scriptures..."[1] His tone is a little demanding in my estimation, but he makes a valid point. We should strive to seek the Truth where it can be found, for as surely as it is there in Grimm's Fairytales, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Hafez, Victor Hugo, Charles Dickens, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Emily Dickinson, J.K. Rowling, Elizabeth Gilbert, and countless others throughout history, it is there and infinitely more so in the Word of God.

            As far as scriptural recommendations go this week, I suggest reading 1 Corinthians 13 and Philippians 2:5-11, which were mentioned previously, but also find one of Jesus' parables and read that too if you have some time. Luke 10:25-37 (the good Samaritan), Luke 16:19-31 (Lazarus and the rich man), and Luke 15:11-32 (the prodigal son) are all good options. In whatever parable you read, ask yourself what God is saying to you. What truth about God's kingdom do you hear reflected in the story? How does it apply to your life? What challenges you? What gives you joy? What have you learned about love, mercy, justice, goodness?

            The next entry might take some extra time for me to post, as I will be traveling this week. In the meantime, however, I would like to draw your attention to the right side bar in which there are links to the Vatican II documents on Divine Revelation (Dei Verbum) and on the Church's relation to religions other than Christianity (Nostra Aetate). Both are valuable documents, and I highly recommend those to you. There are also links to Bible Odyssey and Catholic Bible Student which are great resources for more information about the Scriptures. And as always, I encourage questions and comments via Facebook, e-mail, or this site here. And, if you haven't already done it, don't forget to subscribe by typing your e-mail address in the "Follow the Codega" box.

            Blessings to you in this new year!
            Happy reading!

           




[1] Richard Rohr, Eager to Love: The Alternative Way of Francis of Assisi, (Cincinnati: Franciscan Media, 2014), 261.

Monday, November 30, 2015

The Bible Library: Wisdom & Poetical Books

          I generally do not read a lot of self-help books. Even books on spirituality are not ones to which I naturally gravitate. Much to the chagrin of my novice master, I preferred to read novels when I was in the novitiate. I guess the Wicked series didn't provide enough spiritual nourishment for his taste. Regardless, spirituality and even some self-help books are popular and valuable literature for our day. And whether or not you read such books, perhaps you've taken interest in some article in a newspaper or magazine that offered some advice or "how-to" tips pertaining to your social/domestic life or work – like, the last time you were in a dental office, because seriously... when else do you read the newspaper or a magazine? Maybe you come by these kinds of articles on the Internet through your newsfeed or Pintrest page or simply by searching Google. Further still, many of us have grown up hearing little proverbial phrases that inform our consciences: When in Rome, do as the Romans do; Two wrongs don't make a right; If it ain't broke, don't fix it, etc.
           
            In our on-going tour of the library that is the Bible, today we're exploring the wisdom and poetical books in the Old Testament. These books usually do not make for the most entertaining reading in the Bible. Aside from the peculiar ancient Near Eastern  context – which can be disconcerting enough and oftentimes unpalatable to our contemporary sensitivities – these books generally do not grab our attention.  Let's just say they're no Genesis or Judges. No narratives about sneaky twin brothers (Gen 25:19-34 or Gen 27) or of hair-trimming seductresses ( Jgs 16:4-30) are to be found in them. But wisdom literature and poetry are not entirely foreign to us. As you can see, we are familiar with books, articles or word-of-mouth phrases that offer advice or sometimes sage wisdom. It should be noted, however, that I would not call all of those self-help articles or books "wise."

            According to Richard J. Clifford – without whose book, The Wisdom Literature, this blog post would not be possible, because frankly wisdom literature is not my forte – in reading the wisdom books "you will probably experience a mix of interest, confusion, boredom, and aversion." But he goes on to say that "though the wisdom literature can seem strange to us, it is important to realize that its concerns are modern; in fact they are our concerns."[1] We all wonder what we ought to do in order to live a happier, more balanced life. We might philosophize about the ultimate meaning of our daily toils and hardships... if there even is one. We ponder our relationship with our creator and often wonder why good people suffer.

            Christians look to the person of Jesus and the Gospel life when grappling with these kinds of questions, but these books, as well as all of the books of the Hebrew Scriptures, remain inspired and "permanently valuable."[2] I highly recommend them as a source of ancient wisdom that is ever relevant and has withstood the test of time. Not only that, but these writings also contain some of the most beautiful poetry and prose in Scripture, and they continue to inspire hearts and minds across religious traditions. So let us take a brief tour of some of these books.

            The wisdom/poetical books that are in the canon of scriptures vary according to time and place of composition, and, unlike the books of the Torah or the historical books, their content usually does not refer to a time in actual history or perceived historical memory, though there are exceptions (e.g. the book of Lamentations or Psalm 137). The first book to follow the historical books in the Christian canon of scripture is Job.

Job: Have you ever heard it said of someone (maybe even yourself) "That person has the patience of Job"? If so, you should really read the book of Job. Personally, I don't think he was all that patient. The book is 42 chapters long and from chapters 3-31 Job is kvetching[3] with his so-called friends the whole time. Basically Job was a righteous and wealthy man who revered God. In the realm of the heavenly court, however, a celestial character known as "the satan" makes a wager with God, telling him that Job is only God-fearing because he has nice things. God takes the satan up on the challenge, and Job is cursed with inexpressible misfortune. His so-called friends try to explain to him that he must have done something wrong to deserve all of this, but Job stubbornly defends his innocence. Finally God answers Job's complaint with a beautiful and lengthy speech about God's omnipotence, sovereignty, and incomprehensibly. Job is satisfied with that, and God restores to Job all that was taken away.
            There is so much that can be said of the book of Job. It is truly one of the most beautifully written books in the Old Testament. The Hebrew, I'm told, is some of the most difficult to translate. While I would like to go on about this book, I will only say two things for now.
1.) The character known as "the satan" should not be confused with the devil or a necessarily evil being. The satan literally means "the accuser," or in this context, "the prosecutor."[4] He was a member of the heavenly council whose job it was to report to God his findings about the activities on earth. In other words, the satan was like a district attorney, and that's why everybody hates lawyers.
2.) The book of Job deals with the problem of theodicy: If God is all good and all powerful, why does evil exist; why do bad things happen to innocent people? The book of Job does not actually answer that question forthright. Two things we can take from Job on this point are that pious platitudes are futile in the face of suffering (as indicated by God's rebuke of Job's friends who thought they understood God well), and that God is God, and we are not.

Psalms: I once had a professor tell our class that if the ancient Israelites had iPods, the psalms would be their playlists. The psalms were essentially songs, and that is why a cantor will usually sing the psalm at mass. There are many different forms of psalms: individual laments, communal laments, songs of trust, royal psalms, wisdom psalms, creation psalms, songs of thanksgiving, pilgrimage hymns, etc. [5] I recommend perusing the psalms on your own and meditating on one for a day or week. Some of my favorites are 1, 8, 11, 22, 23, 25, 27, 32, 34, 42 & 43 (they're really one psalm),44,  51, 88, 121-124, 127, 130, 133, 137, and 150. I know. That was a lot of psalms to list, but maybe you will find one of these helpful to you. Or perhaps there is one not listed which you particularly like. The great thing about the psalms is that they run the gamut of human emotions, and, like Job, they're not afraid to express to God frustration and anger. Feel free to comment about some of your favorite psalms.

Proverbs: As I mentioned before, we've all heard proverbial phrases in our lifetimes. The book of Proverbs is an anthology of such wisdom sayings in the Hebrew tradition. The wisdom of Proverbs was not about theoretical knowledge, but rather practical knowledge – knowledge that helped you conduct you life in the correct manner. A wise person does morally good things, and the foolish person is one who does wicked things.[6]
            The female imagery in Proverbs is, like in much of the Bible, ambivalent. There is the "strange" or foreign woman, whose wanton ways will lead a young man to disaster. Yet wisdom itself is personified as a woman as well, and she is written about with exceedingly high regard. Interestingly enough, I knew a woman who was a big fan of the book of Proverbs and had several favorites of her own. Maybe you have or will find a few of your own favorites as well.

Ecclesiastes or Qoheleth: Don't read this book if you're depressed. Its message isn't depressing in and of itself, but one could easily take it the wrong way and think that life is meaningless. That isn't the point of Qoheleth though. Yes, it often repeats that "all is vanity" – which is to say that everything is transient or insubstantial[7] - but life does have meaning, and it does have order. It's order and meaning belong to God, according to Qoheleth, and we should accept that and enjoy the good things God has given us. After all, let's face it; we're all going to die one day, rich and poor alike, so don't bother building up your own wealth and legacy. That is what is what is truly meaningless.
            This is actually a very good book for those stereotypical father figures portrayed in movies like Click or Liar, Liar that have no time for their families because they're too busy with work. The dad in the song "Cat's in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin could also have learned a thing or two from this book. And while that song was probably not inspired by Qoheleth, the song "Turn! Turn! Turn!" by the Byrds definitely was (Ecc 3:1-8). Click the title to give it listen.

The Song of Songs: This is like the Fifty Shades of Grey of the Bible. No, I'm totally kidding. There's no S&M in it. But it is the most erotic bit of literature to be found in the Scriptures. The Song of Songs is a collection of  love songs or speeches by two lovers with occasional choral interjections by the bride's companions and brothers. Some commentators of antiquity, both Jewish and Christian, have suggested that the Song of Songs is an allegory of the love of God for Israel or for the Church, and while that may be a fine way to meditate on this book, there is no reason to believe that it was written as a figurative depiction of God's love. There's not even any mention of God in it. That being said, what a beautiful testament it is that this collection of love poems, which celebrates human love and passion and is so rich in erotic imagery, has been canonized as sacred.

            For this post, I'm going to be brief about the Wisdom of Solomon and the Wisdom of Ben Sira (aka Sirach). These are deuterocanonical books (aka apocryphal) and will probably be treated more in a later post.The Wisdom of Solomon, I can assure you it was not written by Solomon. It was probably written the latest of any other book in the Old Testament (perhaps in the late first century BCE or early first century CE). According to Coogan, it was written "in order to demonstrate the superiority of Judaism and probably to persuade Jews who may have abandoned their religion to return to it."[8]  
           Ben Sira was definitely written sometime between the years 180 BCE 175 BCE, by a man named Jesus (Yeshua) who was the grandson of a man named Sira. Go figure that there was more than one man named Jesus in the ancient Near East. Sirach is an anthology of wisdom that the author apparently had passed down to him. I've recently read a good portion from Ben Sira and find it to be full of very sensible advice. I especially liked his assessment of true friendship in 6:5-17.
            

            And lastly we come to the book of Lamentations – another book one should not read when depressed. It is a collection of poems describing the fall of Jerusalem in 586 BCE, so naturally it is not going to be the most cheerful – not that anyone was expecting it to be with a name like "Lamentations." It had been presumed that that author was the prophet Jeremiah, and that is why it follows his book in the Christian canon of scripture. However, scholars are pretty certain that Jeremiah was not the author. Among the more interesting things about this book is that the first four poems are acrostics in Hebrew. Each line or stanza begins with a successive letter in the Hebrew alphabet. If you've ever written a poem using the letters of someone's name as the start of each line, it's kind of like that, but with the whole alphabet. This was one way to aid people in memorizing the poem... and trust me; the destruction of Jerusalem was not a thing one should forget.

            So having taken a whirlwind tour of the wisdom and poetical writings of the Old Testament, for this week I encourage and recommend reading Psalm 49. It is a good example of a wisdom psalm, and it fits in well with some of the themes of other wisdom literature, like Job and Qoheleth. As you meditate on this psalm, consider what is really important in life. Do you put your trust in material things or in God and in cultivating life-giving relationships? What is your reaction to the psalmist's description of the universality of death? Does death frighten you? Even if it does, do you have hope in redemption and resurrection? What sort of wisdom do you glean from this psalm, and how will it affect your life this week?
            Of course, you do not have to read this particular psalm this week. There are plenty of other good passages from the wisdom/poetical writings. I also recommend reading the entirety of Lamentations, or Song of Songs. They're short books. Or you can peruse the book of Proverbs, or find another psalm you may enjoy reflecting on. If you have the time, I highly encourage reading the whole book of Job (ideally in one or two sittings). All of these are great books for reflection and meditation, and they may just be even better than a self-help book.

            As always I welcome questions and comments. And now that is made even easier! Bible Codega now has a page on Facebook, so I invite you to "like" the page and leave a comment or question there if you prefer. Next week – or sometime after final exams (yikes!) – we'll take a look at prophetic literature.

             For now I leave you with somewhat of a proverb my father used to tell my siblings and me: "Smile! The sunshine's good for the teeth." Not the most morally consequential phrase, but hopefully it brightens your day. Peace!




[1] Richard J. Clifford, The Wisdom Literature, (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1998), 17, 18.
[2] Vatican Council II, “Dei Verbum” § 14.
[3] The word "kvetch," by the way, is of Yiddish origin and means to complain persistently. It also sounds an awful lot like another word which can mean the same thing but is not very appropriate.
[4] Michael D. Coogan, The Old Testament: A Historical and Literary Introduction to the Hebrew Scriptures, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 483.
[5] Coogan, 462.
[6] Clifford, 51.
[7] Ibid., 103.
[8] Coogan, 518.