Apocalyptic Hope

     Ever since the start of the pandemic, each morning our friary has been celebrating a conventual Mass (i.e. Mass with just the friars of the house). We've continued this communal celebration even after public masses were reinstated later in the spring, and the ordained friars take turns presiding. Although I'm a brother, and thus do not preside at Mass, I offer a reflection on the Scriptures in lieu of a homily on Fridays.

    Not accustomed to delivering memorized or off-the-cuff speeches, I prefer to write out my reflections. It's not the most riveting style of preaching, but then this is yet another reason why I appreciate my vocation to the brotherhood. I have, however, garnered much more respect for my confreres who are ordained priests. Preparing homilies is a lot of work, and they preach more than just on Sundays. Moreover, preaching is only a fraction of what they do as priests, so have some gratitude for your local pastors. They do quite a bit that goes unnoticed.

    Anyway, since I write out my reflections, and since today's readings were apocalyptic in nature, I thought I would post what wrote up for this morning's Mass. It seemed fitting, given that my last couple of posts from early this summer were about apocalyptic literature. That, and we come to the end of a liturgical year this weekend and begin a new one with the season of Advent. This tends to be a time when the Church's liturgy has a bit more of an eschatological bent. So, without further prelude, my reflection from the Friday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time (November 27, 2020).

Revelation 20:1-4, 11-21-2; Psalm 84:3, 4, 5-6a and 8a; Luke 21:29-33

Here we are at one of the climactic, final scenes in the book of Revelation. We have the capture and imprisonment of the dragon (a.k.a. Satan); the martyrs and faithful ones enjoying the reign of Christ; the final judgement; death and the underworld are at last destroyed, and there’s a completely new creation, with a new  heaven, a new earth, and a new Jerusalem. In just these few verses, this section covers most of the major themes in apocalyptic literature: cosmic upheaval, the kingdom of God, judgment, and renewal. But is this about the past, the future, or times concurrent with this book’s composition? The answer is, “Yes.”

               In the book of Revelation past, present, and future are sort of fused into one, but ultimately, though there are cosmic battles, and earthly disasters and suffering, Christ is always triumphant and the members of the Church enjoy and are actively a part of that new creation. Yes, Christ was definitively victorious over sin and death on the cross and in his resurrection, but this victory is an enduring reality, for Christ lives on in his Church. Just as our ancestors in faith struggled against the all-pervasive political and cultural system that was the Roman empire in the ways that it opposed Christ, so too do we today struggle against a culture of indifference, consumerism, individualism, hate, and injustice.

Personally, I find the dualistic character of Revelation rather off-putting. I’m wary of a cut-and-dry, black-or-white worldview, and yet we can’t deny that things are not right in the world, and there really never has been a time when truth, justice, and goodness reigned entirely. One of the values of Revelation is that, though the battle has already been won in Christ, and Christ is indeed King - as we celebrated this past Sunday - we are still part of that living story. There are still forces and prevailing attitudes, both outside of ourselves and within us as well, that stand against the work and the Spirit of God. We might not use the same imagery as apocalyptic authors, but the Paschal Mystery is being lived out in the members of Christ’s Body - in those who are crucified when profit is prioritized over human life, when power is chosen over people. We do continue to fight against evil in our world today. But evil is not so much a thing in and of itself; rather evil gets its nature from its opposition to God. I certainly would not say that there are evil human beings, but there are human actions and inactions that are in conflict with goodness, peace, charity, self-control, and the like.

Naturally, the wrathful violence of the apocalyptic narrative can be a bit unnerving for many folks. But we also know that history, from the stories of the Old Testament even until now - have shown us that destruction, disaster, war, and death give way to renewal, resurrection, and new life. It’s a shame that we live in a world in which we needed a civil rights movement, but where would we be without those men and women who risked their dignity and their lives for equality under the law? But, of course, we still have a long way to go. Even as we look back on this 2020 year, we remember those awful deaths that reignited the Black Lives Matter movement - these killings were unjust tragedies and should not have happened, yet I think we are seeing a new creation of sorts being formed in a movement striving for a more just society. I’m reminded of the words of Archbishop Oscar Romero, who said, “If they kill me, I will rise in the Salvadoran people.” The mystery of dying and rising is written into the fabric of the human story and is very much at the core of our faith where Christ is always victorious - and even death itself has no power over us. This is why we need apocalyptic, not because we look forward to war, death, and destruction, but because it gives us a lens with which to view the human story, and it reminds us that, after enduring the travail of pursuing goodness and righteousness, Christ will reign.

 

In today’s Gospel we are told to consider the blossoms on the fig tree. We know this is a sign that summer is near, so likewise we should read the signs of the times to recognize that God’s kingdom is at hand. I think with so much that has transpired in the last several months, not least of all the pandemic, we are experiencing a God-moment in our world - a nearness of God’s kingdom. I don’t think it’s the linear end of the world or signs of Jesus' second coming, for we’ve experienced rays of God’s kingdom like this before in history and in our own lifetimes. God’s Word, both spoken and incarnate, has endured all kinds of risings and topplings of kingdoms, nations, movements, philosophies, and technologies. And now, with everything that has been going on, I have apocalyptic hope that new life is budding forth - though not without challenges and forces of opposition. I don’t know what it might look like or even how long the struggles might last, but I believe that Christ and his kingdom will prevail.

Why So Apocalyptic? Part II: To Wipe Away Every Tear

A good friend asked me what I was up to during this time of quarantine, and I told her that I had been writing about apocalyptic literature. In typical self-pitying fashion, I lamented to her that my earlier posts did not generate as many pageviews as I thought such a compelling topic would. To this she responded, "Duh, Ian! People don't want to read about the apocalypse right now. They want to read something happy. They want to hear some good news." Yet in my mind I was thinking, But apocalyptic literature is all about good news!

In my last post I wrote about how different biblical traditions dealt with the nagging question of why good and faithful people suffered so much. One reason why apocalyptic thought developed was because it provided a sense of God's justice. For them, even though the righteous suffered now under the weight of oppression, they would be rewarded for their fidelity while the persecutors and backsliders would get their comeuppances in the end. Judgement is a common denominator in nearly all apocalyptic literature, because those who wrote it lived in a world where justice was not realized. But there was another reason why these books with frightening imagery and allusions to cosmic destruction captured the imaginations of their audience. As strange as it may seem, apocalyptic literature offered comfort, hope, and consolation.

Apocalyptic thought feeds on oppression. Sometimes that oppression is merely perceived, like when Hellenism was slowly eroding away Jewish culture. It wasn't overt persecution, but it gave rise to apocalyptic books, like The Watchers, in which apostasy and foreign influences are the enemy. The temptation to compromise one's religious values or cultural identity spurred a movement that clearly delineated how God's justice would be served. Today, however, we look at the impact of conflict - deadly conflict - because when the trauma becomes real, and people are dying all around you, it feels like the freakin' end of the world. And if that isn't a recipe for apocalypticism, I don't know what is.¹

I left off in the Greek period of Jewish biblical history with mention of Antiochus IV Epiphanes. We're looking at the years 175-163 BCE. The empire of Alexander the Great had long since been divided up among his successors after his death. Palestine originally fell under Ptolemaic control (based in Egypt) but was later usurped by the Seleucid kingdom, which controlled Asia Minor, Syria, and Mesopotamia. Antiochus was a Seleucid ruler who was kind of an egomaniac. (I mean, his self-given title, Epiphanes was akin to God Manifest.) A failed campaign against the Ptolemaic kingdom left him in financial straits, so he stormed the temple in Jerusalem and stole from the treasury. Naturally, the Jews rioted and rebelled, which provoked a mass slaughter. As a result, Antiochus basically made Jewish religious practice a capital offense. On top of everything else, he even desecrated their temple by erecting in it an image of Zeus and sacrificing pigs on the altar.²

1 & 2 Maccabees chronicle, among other things, the events of Antiochus' reign and the Maccabean revolt led by Judas Maccabeus. Prior to the Jewish revolt's surprising success, the two books of Maccabees describe the horrific plight under Antichocus' anti-Jewish policies. For example, "Whoever was found with a scroll of the covenant, and whoever observed the law, was condemned to death by royal decree... In keeping with the decree, they put to death women who had their children circumcised, and they hung their babies from their necks; their families also and those who had circumcised them were killed (1 Macc 1:57, 50-61). The second book of Maccabees details the gruesome torture and martyrdom of a woman and her seven sons, many of whom offer last words that indicate a growing belief in the resurrection of the dead. (I highly encourage you to read chapter 7 of 2 Maccabees.) Now regardless of the how historically accurate these accounts are, it's clear that they were inspired by the bloody reign of a Gentile king bent on crushing all who did not succumb to his forced Hellenistic assimilation.

It's conditions like these that propelled apocalyptic thought forward. For wisdom literature, suffering was just a part of God's larger mysterious plan or, if nothing else, simply an inevitable part of life. But anyone who has experienced extreme sorrow and loss knows that such pious rationalities don't cut it when you're feeling that much pain. For the prophets, suffering was either merited for breaking the covenant or would be resolved at some point in the vague future. For the apocalyptist, though, people were dying for the sake of the covenant, and the time for their affliction to end had to be coming soon! Things had gotten so bad that God had to radically intervene and hit the reset button on the world.

Think of the game Mario Bros. There's no need to start the game over when things are going well, but when you're down to one life, and you've failed to beat Bowser twice already, it may just be time to press Reset and start fresh. In the end, that beast will be defeated once and for all. A more biblical example would be Noah and the ark. Basically, humanity had become so sinful that God wiped everything out with a massive flood and started over again with a renewed earth. This is one of the reasons that allusions to the flood story are common in apocalyptic writings. God had restored creation to paradise once before, and he could do it again.

 You might think that there is nothing consoling about the destruction of life on earth, but those writing or listening to apocalyptic texts felt that they were already approaching or in the midst of the end times. Remember, the basic principle of apocalypticism was that God was in control. So where was God's sovereignty whenever their world started falling apart and it seemed like chaos and bloodshed reigned? For them, it meant God's great reset was coming. Like the peak of a heatwave or a tumultuous storm just before the cool relief of a cold front, God was about to act in some definitive way. For those who died there would be resurrection (as with the mother and her seven sons in 2 Maccabees), and for those who survived they would see God's glory and his reign established firmly on the earth. This is what gave hope and consolation in times of such crisis.

One of the more fascinating characteristics of apocalyptic literature is ex eventu prophecy. Apocalyptic texts, like Daniel or the apocryphal (i.e. non-canonical) books of Enoch, were not actually written by those men or even around the time when they supposedly existed. They were written much later. Daniel, for example, is a figure from the Babylonian exile. He sees a vision of beasts that represent four historical kingdoms beginning with the Babylonians and ending with Greeks. He specifically points out a horn on the fourth beast's head that speaks arrogantly and wages war against the holy ones. This is a symbol of Antiochus IV. But the character of Daniel is from several hundred years before Antiochus. So while fundamentalists would say that Daniel foresaw the reign of the Greek empire, what is really going on is ex eventu prophecy. The author of the book retrojects historical events that he's familiar with into the the visions of his protagonist.

Whether or not the original audience believed that Daniel, Enoch, or whoever else is cast as an apocalyptic visionary actually foretold various periods of history is not as important as what this literary technique did to comfort those in crisis. Using ex eventu prophecy to give a bird's-eye view of time emphasized God's authority over history. It also helped them to process time into distinct periods, which meant that, just as with all the other chapters of history, their age of consternation and suffering would come to an end. 

Furthermore, the visionary "prophesies" events leading right up to the situation in which the author and audience presently find themselves, but then he sees a little further than their current lived experience into a new and glorious period of God's reign. This gave the impression that God's intervention was close at hand. If the author and audience believed they were living in the penultimate period of tribulation and devastation, then the ultimate period of God's reign and renewal would naturally follow. Apocalyptic literature, though weird and at times frightening, usually ends on a happy note.

But when the court is convened,

and his dominion is taken away

to be abolished and completely destroyed,

Then the kingship and dominion and majesty

of all the kingdoms under the heavens

shall be given to the people of the holy ones of the Most High,

Whose kingship shall be an everlasting kingship,

whom all dominions shall serve and obey. (Daniel 7:26-27)

Ten-horned beasts, ravaging he-goats, seven-headed dragons, and monstrous locusts may be the stuff of nightmares for us. But ancient Jews (and early Christians) between 200 BCE and 200 CE were already living their worst nightmares. They experienced the chaos of mad kings and emperors, religious persecution, internal corruption, apostasy, and even death for living their faith. Mere words and pious platitudes were not going to satisfy. They needed symbols as extreme as the reality they were facing to meet them were they were in the midst of their turmoil. As I write this, it makes me wonder: is this why The Tiger King became so popular during this covid-19 pandemic? I mean, think about it. Isn't it a relief to know that, as insane as our world feels right now, it's not quite as crazy as the likes of Joe Exotic and Carole Baskin? Something to think about.³

But whereas Tiger King might hold our attention because its mayhem and madness are cathartic, apocalyptic literature didn't stop with the terrifying beasts and cosmic catastrophes. The terror and destruction always gave way to the manifestation of God's glory. God's kingdom would finally be inaugurated, the dead would be raised to new life, and heaven and earth would be recreated. This is why apocalyptic literature was so consoling. Yes, to those who compromised their faith and moral values, the fearsome imagery and prospect of God's judgment was meant to wake them up from their laxity. On the other hand, to those who were enduring persecution even unto death, the promise of God and his heavenly forces bringing an end to oppression brought hope. The assurance that the faithful who had died would be resurrected gave them comfort and strength.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away. (Revelation 21:4)

I know that this pandemic has been a crazy and difficult time to say the least. Every day thousands of people are dying from covid-19. Unemployment is in the millions in the U.S. alone. And even as stay-at-home orders are being eased, there's too much fear and uncertainty to take much advantage of it. Moreover, the tension that society is experiencing in this country is hitting a boiling point - at it's worst, manifesting itself in armed protests. And if all of that wasn't enough, the probability of a second wave looms heavy over all our heads.⁴

It's no surprise that my friend thought that I should be writing about happier things than the apocalypse. Yet while a viral plague is obviously not the same thing as, say, a hostile overlord destroying a race's religious and cultural identity, people have been asking if this pandemic is an apocalyptic event. Like our Jewish and early Christian ancestors, who experienced their own tribulations and sought comfort in a revelation that God was in control, would be victorious, and would raise up the faithful, we too want to know that God is still with us. The answer apocalyptic literature gives is a resounding Yes, and he will wipe every tear from their eyes.

My scriptural recommendation this week is Revelation 20:1-21:7. Don't overthink the symbols, but simply let this passage fill you with consolation. Though I do not think that the covid-19 crisis is a sign of the end times, we are nevertheless experiencing a challenging period in history that is rapidly changing our world. Apocalyptic literature was written to meet people in the midst of such crises, to give them courage and to remind them that God was more powerful than even death itself. So maybe we can take away some good news from it too. Until next time...

Peace and all good,
Bro. Ian

---

1 The idea of compromise and conflict as major influences on apocalyptic literature derives from Gregory Stevenson, A Slaughtered Lamb: Revelation and the Apocalyptic Response to Evil and Suffering, (Abilene, ACU Press, 2013), 74-87.^↩
2 Stephen L. Harris and Robert L. Platzner, The Old Testament: An Introduction to the Hebrew Bible, (Boston: McGraw Hill, 2003), 361.^↩
3 For the record, I haven't watched The Tiger King... as of now, anyway.^↩
4 Oh yeah, and Murder Hornets now makes Apocalyptic Bingo.^↩

Let's Talk Apocalypse... Seems Appropriate, Right?

Have the four horsemen of the apocalypse come to rove the earth in recent days? One might certainly get that impression with the onslaught of the Covid-19 pandemic. Although confirmed cases are (for now) low in Indiana where I write this, the entire country is in a state of emergency. Obviously this is a global crisis, with many other countries facing much more severe predicaments. And let's not even get into the toll this will take on the world market and the long-term economic ramifications. Here in the States alone, schools and colleges are closing, events are cancelling, businesses are taking a hit, grocery stores have lines half-way into the parking lots and are selling out of toilet-paper. Toilet-paper, though? Seriously? I mean, hand-sanitizer I understand, but I would have thought there'd be a run on vitamin C or something like that. Revelation 6:6 talks about a ration of wheat for a day's wage, not a pack of bathroom tissue.

Anyway, I was recently informed that this month's deanery young adult gathering, at which I was to be the presenter, has been cancelled. What a coincidence that I had been preparing for weeks to talk about the Apocalypse! Fortunately, all that brushing up I've been doing on apocalyptic literature need not go to waste. For though I won't be speaking about it at Theology Uncorked anytime soon, I can at least write about it on this poor, neglected blog. And hey, if I'm hunkered down to write, I'm guessing you're hunkered down to read. What else is there to do?

So let's begin with a little quiz. What is an apocalypse?


a.) A cataclysmic event resulting in massive death and destruction
b.) A literary genre
c.) The Greek term for the conclusion of a comedy or tragedy
d.) The end of the world

Despite how the word apocalypse is typically used, an apocalypse is not an event - neither the end of the world, nor a global catastrophe, nor even the Coronavirus. An apocalypse is far less outrageous or dire, though I still think it's pretty extraordinary. If you chose option C, you're half right. Apocalypse does derive from the Greek word apokalupsis (ἀποκάλυψις) for "unveiling" or "revelation," but it has nothing to do with the ending of Greek dramas. Think of pulling back the curtain from a window or a piece of artwork; that would be an apokalupsis. We'll get into the significance of this "unveiling" later. However, if you answered B, hooray for you! An apocalypse is a particular form of literature, a genre.

Now scholars can get very technical about what constitutes an actual apocalypse and what writings should be classified as apocalyptic. You might ask if there is even a difference between an apocalypse and literature that is simply apocalyptic. Take for example the mystery genre. To be considered a mystery, a book normally has some standard elements: a crime, a protagonist who will solve the crime, clues, and an ending in which the perpetrator is revealed. Naturally though, some books might have strong mystery attributes, but they are not branded as mysteries per se. Think of Harry Potter. One of the things that makes Harry Potter books so captivating is that they're very akin to mysteries: who's trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone; who opened the Chamber of Secrets; who put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire; who is the Half-Blood Prince, etc. But you're not going to find Harry Potter next to Murder on the Orient Express at Barnes & Noble, and not just because J.K. Rowling isn't near Agatha Christie alphabetically.

So what's apocalyptic, and what makes an apocalypse an apocalypse? Let's start with the latter. Many scholars classify an apocalypse more or less as "a narrative in which supernatural beings mediate a revelation to human beings that discloses a spiritual reality."¹ There are only two books in the Bible that are apocalypses: Daniel and Revelation (a.k.a The Apocalypse, since it's Greek name is simply Apokalupsis ).² If it's not a narrative, it's not an apocalypse, so most of the books of the prophets - apocalyptic though some may be - are not apocalypses, because they're poetic in style. In an apocalypse an angel (or some heavenly being) will relay the vision to a human. Sometimes they mediate the revelation by asking questions and explaining what the different symbols mean, and sometimes they act as a tour guide of realms like heaven or hell. Basically an apocalyspe is a book about a dude that has supernatural visions directly from or explained by an angel.

There is more to an apocalypse than that, but that's kind of what one boils down to. Some apocalypses are sort of allegorical history books, kind of like Orwell's Animal Farm. In others, the visionary takes an otherworldly journey with an angelic sidekick. However an apocalypse is written, though, the author is definitely influenced by his apocalyptic worldview. So what does it mean for something to be apocalyptic?

Remember that apocalypse comes from the Greek word for "unveiling." You might ask, then, "What is being unveiled?" In his book, A Slaughtered Lamb, Gregory Stevenson writes, "apocalyptic pulls back the veil between the spiritual and the physical and, in so doing, exposes the physical world to a divine perspective."³ An apocalyptic worldview presumes that there is a close connection between the world we experience and the spiritual world. This is very important to remember. Literature and ideas cannot be apocalyptic if they don't hold that God and the powers of heaven and hell have some kind of influence or effect on earth. Ultimately, the essential apocalyptic theme is that God is in control! And for as frightening as the apocalyptic imagination may seem to be on the surface, this one guiding principle is very good news! If God is in control, even if things appear awful on earth, then there's hope and consolation for the present and future. So take that, Coronavirus!

Stevenson identifies four apocalyptic characteristics. The first is transcendence, which I already touched upon. An apocalyptic worldview presumes that reality extends beyond this mere physical world that we experience. There are also angels and demons, heavenly beings, and the throne of God aside from what we take in with our five senses. However, we can't access this spiritual reality without some kind of disclosure from a heavenly being. Thus the need for an apokalupsis, a revelation⁴.

The second characteristic is determinism. Like I said, God is in control. While human beings have free will, God has an ultimate plan for creation, so even the cataclysmic events are not beyond God's power, but rather extend from God's sovereignty over time and space. It may seem to paint an unflattering picture of God in some ways, but for the apocalyptic thinker, an aloof and indifferent God would be so much worse!⁵ There is a lot of exploration and interpretation of the past in apocalyptic literature, which demonstrates that God had been present and active in the events of history and thus is present and active now as God will also be in the future. Determinism acts, then, as a consoling concept.⁶

Stevenson next speaks about symbolism in apocalyptic literature.⁷ If you've stuck with me thus far, you might be wondering when I'm going to talk about dragons, beasts, fire and earthquakes, trumpets, and plagues (*cough* like the one we're experiencing now). Well... not today. But it is important to note that an apocalyptic outlook needs to employ symbols. I have a real issue with biblical fundamentalism, so when it comes to apocalyptic texts, like Daniel or Revelation, I internally eye-roll when folks start earnestly drawing one-to-one connections between symbols in the passages and events or people of recent history and today. Just because Revelation speaks of plague, does not mean we are living in the end times.

That all being said, I love delving into symbolic worldviews, because the use of a symbol is so much more powerful than verbose description. Think about our meme culture: a scant caption and an image say a lot! Moreover, that same image can be used to convey so many different messages! Symbols are even more compelling than memes because people experience a visceral relationship to them. Think of the cross, the flag, the Statue of Liberty, the peace sign, a rainbow, the Star of David, etc. Symbols tap into the values, philosophies, emotions, and histories of a people. They engage and overwhelm the whole being of their audience. And since apocalyptic literature is conveying a message about spiritual realities too ineffable for human minds, the audience needs to be wholly enveloped by it. Symbols, similes, and metaphors are the closest approximation to what the authors are striving to relate.

...or what a symbol is for that matter.

The fourth characteristic is dualism. In an apocalyptic worldview, the lines between good and evil are clearly drawn; there's no gray area. Personally I find this component a little unnerving, because if one takes this concept to the extreme it can spawn moral elitism and disastrous, self-righteous us vs. them conflict. But there is a reason why a sharp distinction between what is good and what is evil was important to a person who saw the world from an apocalyptic perspective. Their lived experience was so turbulent and chaotic that dualism helped to bring a sense of order and justice. God was not only in control, God was omnipotent and was going to be victorious over his enemies!⁸

Besides these four, scholars have identified other motifs of apocalypticism. Some scholars speak about an apocalyptic movement in the ancient world which influenced such literary works. A few of the characteristics of this apocalyptic worldview included an "urgent expectation of the end of earthly conditions in the immediate future" and that this end would involve a "cosmic catastrophe." There would certainly be some kind of judgment at this end time, but there would be a "new salvation, paradisal in character." God's kingdom and glory would be manifest, and there would be some sort of royal mediator between heaven and earth.⁹ A lot of these concepts are what come to mind when people think of an apocalypse today, but we are far removed from the experiences of those people who generated apocalyptic thought in the last few centuries B.C.E. and into the first few centuries C.E.

Why was there an apocalyptic movement? Why did people write apocalypses? What was the point of literature that reads like an acid trip? These are questions I hope to answer in my next blog post. In the meantime, here is my Scripture recommendation for the week: Daniel 7. It's a classic example of apocalyptic writing. If your Bible has explanatory footnotes, I highly recommend checking those out. As you read it, consider how the elements of an apocalypse feature in the passage, but more importantly think about how this obscure vision ultimately offers a message of hope and consolation. As my Apoc. Lit. professor said, "Like good preaching, apocalyptic literature should comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted."¹⁰

Peace and all good,
Bro. Ian

---

1 Gregory Stevenson, A Slaughtered Lamb: Revelation and the Apocalyptic Response to Evil and Suffering, (Abilene, ACU Press, 2013), 91.^↩
2 For the record, it's Revelation singular, NOT Revations plural. There is only one revelation. Trust me. I watched a man miss that question on Jeopardy because he added an s to the end of The Book of Revelation as his answer.^↩
3 Ibid., 93.^↩
4 Ibid., 92-94.^↩
5 And frankly, I agree.^↩
6 Ibid., 94-96.^↩
7 Ibid., 96.^↩
8 Ibid., 98-102.^↩
9 John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature 2nd Ed., (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1998), 12.^↩
10 Timothy Milinovich, Class Lecture, April 8, 2010.^↩

For When I Am Weak, Then I Am Strong

                This Sunday, November 20^th, the Church celebrates the Solemnity of Christ the King. How appropriate it is, given the events that have recently transpired in the United States, that at this time we should be reminded of God's sovereignty. For those that bear the name Christ, indeed, Christ is our king. So it was with little surprise that on the night of November 8th, I saw several posts on social media declaring that, regardless of the election results, Jesus is king. But just what sort of king do we claim to put our faith in? This Sunday's Gospel reading tells us plainly.

                Luke 23:35-43 paints a portrait of a reviled, mocked, crucified man, of one suffering the death penalty, and of one who is silent in the face of persecution. Three times his scoffers needle him to save himself if he is the Messiah, and the last, another damned to the cross, even demands that he save them as well. All the while the reader knows that, despite being intended as a jeer toward Jesus, the sign above the accursed savior's head is, in fact, true – This is the king of the Jews. I wonder if this is the kind of king people imagined when they made their allegiance known on Facebook.

                For all of the ways in which religious values and beliefs influenced voters, I am baffled by how much the notion of making America "great" swayed so much of the population. Oh, don't get me wrong. There were many, many ironies and social phenomena in this election that caused me to make this face:

but I'll restrain myself to one.

                It may come as a shock to some, but the sacred Scriptures are not a code of moral law. There are laws and commandments contained within them, for sure, but the Scriptures are so much more than that. If we truly want to allow God's word to nourish our hearts and consciences, then we must realize that they reveal to us, more than anything else, God's self and the relationship God has with humanity and vice versa. This relationship was ultimately made manifest in the Incarnation – in Jesus, the Word made flesh. Therefore, the Christian tradition is not a set of dogmas, doctrines, and moral obligations. The Christian tradition is an encounter with a person, with Jesus Christ.

                I find it amusing that, when we step back and look at the Scriptures as a whole, we see a God in relationship with really not-so-great people. Abraham and Sarah were too old to have children. Jacob was a deceptive momma's boy. Moses was poor of speech. The prophet Jeremiah even says of himself, "Ah, Lord God! I know not how to speak; I am too young." Samson and Samuel were born to barren women. Rahab was a prostitute. Ruth was from an enemy nation. David was the youngest (and presumably scrawniest) of his brothers, yet he was the one who slew Goliath. David then goes on to supplant King Saul, the man who "stood head and shoulders above the people." And let's not forget that enemy commanders were brutally dispatched by women, that demographic of society thought to be far too weak and powerless.

                Time and again in Scripture the Lord favors the poor and the humble over the powerful and strong. Addressing the Israelites before they cross into the Promised Land, Moses says,

"It was not because you are the largest of all nations that the Lord set his heart on you and chose you, for you are really the smallest of all nations. It was because the Lord loved you and because of his fidelity to the oath he had sworn to your fathers, that he brought you out with his strong hand from the place of slavery." (Deuteronomy 7:7-8a).

And that is just the Old Testament.

                Whom does Jesus choose for his inner circle of disciples? A motley crew of fisherman; men who never seem to understand what Jesus is saying; men who make mistakes but usually learn from them. Who were the ones to whom Jesus first appeared after his resurrection? Women, again that oft dismissed sector of society. Who were the most receptive to Jesus? The sick, the blind, the deaf, the poor, the public sinners and outcasts. Who was chosen to be the mother of Jesus? A poor, young girl from a backwater town; a girl with a heart receptive enough to be filled with the grace to say, "May it be done to me according to your word," and to cry out in the spirit of her ancestors,

"He has shown might with his arm,

dispersed the arrogant of mind and heart.

He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones

but lifted up the lowly.

The hungry he filled with good things;

the rich he has sent away empty."

                At the heart of the Scriptures – I would even venture to say the key that unlocks the whole of the Scriptures – is the Paschal Mystery, the saving death and resurrection of Jesus. Oh, how that mystery of dying and rising permeates the Scriptures in both Testaments. Life emanates from the barren. The flood waters destroy, and a new earth is made. A people are enslaved, and God leads them through the waters to freedom. They are led into exile, and a highway is made in the desert for their return. The Word of God humbles himself and takes on our humanity, even so far as  becoming a mewling, puking infant. Though innocent, he willingly lays down his life and accepts death – a most humiliating death at that! He hardly says a word at his execution, and when he does it is one of mercy. And it is by dying that he becomes the first born of the dead; through him we have new life, and, indeed, all things are made new: "By his stripes we were healed" (Isaiah 53:5)!

                What is the sign that Christ gives to his disciples of his presence among us? Bread, broken and shared! His flesh as fractured bread, gnawed and eaten together. His blood as wine, poured out and shared among a communion of people. What images does Jesus give of the way of life to which he calls us? A grain of wheat that produces much fruit, if only it falls to the ground and dies; the challenge to take up one's cross; selling all that you have and giving it to the poor; the master washing the feet of his disciples; the first being last and the greatest becoming the least. Who conquers the beast in the book of Revelation? What symbol for Christ does the visionary see? Not just any lamb, but a slain lamb! Even in his glorified body, Christ, risen from the dead, still bears the wounds of the nails and lance, continuously revealing his total self-emptying for the human race he loves so much and with whom he desires to be in relationship. He has given his whole self to us, made himself vulnerable and broken, that we might become whole! That, my friends, is power! That is a true king! That is what it means to be great!

                All this talk about greatness in our times. All this desire for security, to hold onto power. All of these assertions of certainty and self-justification; beliefs that God is on our side because we open up the Bible and follow the rules. Do we, who bear the name of Christ, who have died and risen with Christ in our baptism, allow the Paschal Mystery to continue to work in us today?  Have we traded the wider narrative of the Scriptures for a gospel of wealth? Have we sacrificed an encounter with the crucified and risen Christ for a collection of dos and don'ts? Can we learn from the apostle Paul, who time and again admitted his faults, who recognized that he was a sinner, who repeatedly confessed that he once persecuted the Church?  Paul, the man who exclaims, "I will rather boast most gladly of my weakness, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Cor. 12:9b-10). That, my sisters and brothers, is the power of Christ at work in a man humble enough to be receptive to how much our generous God wants to fill us with his grace! As it was revealed to Paul, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor. 12:9a)!

                I invite you to watch this TEDx Talk by Brené Brown and consider, as the title suggests, the power of vulnerability. Meanwhile, let us ask ourselves, do we have the humility to admit when we have made a mistake, to be like the so-called "good thief" and recognize that we have done wrong and are in need of mercy? Do we have the meekness to let go so that others may have enough, or as Mahatma Gandhi said, to live simply so that others may simply live? Do we have the vulnerability to say, "I don't know your native language, but I want to understand you better because you are my brother, my sister"? Do we have the heart to hope in the midst of fear? Do we have the honesty to say, "I can't do it all"? Can we empty ourselves so that we might be open to encountering Christ in 'the other'? Will we allow ourselves to be free rather than comfortable, to be generous rather than secure, to be totally self-giving and broken rather than unloving and superficially intact?

                For this week I recommend simply reading this Sunday's Gospel passage from the Solemnity of Christ the King: Luke 23:35-43. Read it, and reflect on what it really means to be great. Read it, and consider what true power is. Read it again and again. Read it until you weep. Weep for all the misconceptions our society has of power! Weep for all those who hold onto power by stepping on the necks of minorities, the poor, and immigrants! Weep for our own hands that hold on, white-knuckled, to the things that give us security! Weep for the self-righteous! Weep for those who think the only way to win is to speak loudly, to have a biting comeback for every rebuke! Weep for those who will never know that true victory is in dying – dying to self and emptying yourself totally for others!

Peace and all good!

A Tour of the New Testament: Where did the Bible come from? Part IV

            Aww yisss. Finally, the New Testament. I know... so far  I haven't written very much on that portion of the Bible which directly has to do with Jesus Christ. But in my defense, it takes awhile to get through the Hebrew Scriptures – the Old Testament is nearly four times as long as the New. Furthermore, its breadth of history and literary development spans over a thousand years. The New Testament (NT), on the other hand, was composed in probably less than a century. Compared to the Hebrew Scriptures, the Christian Scriptures look like a weekly newspaper, and, all things considered, the NT was literature in a hurry. But where did it come from?

            We can pretty much assume that Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection probably took place sometime around the year 30 CE. But writings about Jesus did not come about immediately. After the resurrection, the followers of Christ began to spread the Good News of Christ orally, and the movement grew rapidly. I'm rather surprised it grew at all, considering its leader had just died a horrific execution, and it wasn't long before his followers were likewise persecuted. But as the 2^nd century Church father, Tertullian, says "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church." How this religious movement not only survived but flourished in its first hundred years is a real testament to its credibility (pun absolutely intended).

            One of the persecutors of the early Church was a Pharisee named Saul of Tarsus, who was later more commonly known as Paul. As the story goes, he was on his way to Damascus to bring back to Jerusalem in chains any followers of the "the Way." The term Christian, by the way, had not been coined yet, and so they were simply called followers of the Way. Seeing a bright light, Saul fell to the ground. Then a voice spoke to him saying, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" Theologically, this is incredibly significant, for the risen Christ had identified himself to Saul with his followers and disciples whom Saul was persecuting. This close association of Christ with his followers (i.e. the Body of Christ, the Church) is central to St. Paul's writings. You can read about his conversion in several passages of the NT: Acts 9:1-19; Galatians1:12-19; 1 Timothy 1:12-14.

Parmigianino, The Conversion of St. Paul (1527-1528), Oil on Canvas

FYI, nowhere in the NT does it say Paul was riding a horse... Mr. Parmigianino.

            Paul became one of the most influential apostles of the early Church, spreading the Gospel (i.e. Good News) throughout the Mediterranean. He kept correspondence with the Christian communities which he either founded or had visited. Thus we have the letters of Paul to the Corinthians, or Thessalonians, or Galatians etc. These funny names simply refer to the church communities to whom he was writing in Corinth, Thessalonica, Galatia, and so on. I bring up Paul before mentioning the four Gospels because his letters (a.k.a. epistles) to these churches are probably the earliest of the NT Scriptures. His first letter to the Thessalonians was likely the earliest of his epistles that we have in Scripture, making it possibly the oldest of any of the NT writings.

            But things get kind of dicey from here. Scholars are pretty certain that Paul wrote the letters to the Galatians, Corinthians, Philippians, Philemon, Romans, and the first letter to the Thessalonians, but they are not so sure about 2 Thessalonians, Colossians, Ephesians, or the letters to Timothy and Titus. The letters that are undisputedly from Paul all had to have been composed before his death in the mid 60s CE. So dang, check that out... hardly 30 years after Jesus' death and resurrection and at least seven letters of the NT have already been composed!

            The dating of the disputed letters varies. Some fair arguments can be made that  2 Thessalonians and maybe even Colossians might very well have been written by Paul during his career. In any case, all of these disputed letters were most likely composed before the year 100 CE, the latest probably being the Pastoral Letters, 1 & 2 Timothy and Titus. If the disputed letters were not written by Paul himself, they were probably composed by his disciples or those who were in line with Pauline thought. Ephesians, for example, seems to have been written by one who was very good at summarizing and getting to the heart of Paul's theology.

            Should this bother us that Paul didn't write some of the letters we attribute to him? Not really. Here's the thing about writings in the ancient world. For one, people back then didn't have the kind of hang-ups we do today about academic honesty. Nowadays we have this neurotic, individualistic obsession with "intellectual property." It's abhorrent not to cite your sources, to plagiarize or forge, to attribute work to someone who didn't do it. (FYI, my last name is spelled B-r-e-m-a-r if you'd like to cite this post in your next term paper.)[1] But for the ancients, writing in someone else's name was not frowned upon like it is today. Back then, wisdom was a communal matter; it belonged to everyone, not to individuals. Secondly, wisdom derived from the past, not so much the present or future. Today our knowledge is oriented toward future prospects. We seek discoveries in technology and the sciences that will advance us even further into the future. Our ancestors of antiquity, however, believed that in order to understand the present and discern the future one needed to understand the past. Not surprisingly, elders were more respected back then than they are today.

            Given this kind of attitude toward wisdom and the past, putting a wise leader's name on your work doesn't seem to be that big of a deal. I only bring this up because there was a lot of pseudonymous literature (writings in another person's name) in the ancient world, and there are examples of it in both the Old and New Testaments, as well as many books which never made it into the Bible. Furthermore, this brings me to the four Gospels. Yay, everyone's favorite!

Not quite the Good News I'm talking about. Photo courtesy of www.patheos.com

            The first Gospel of the NT to have been written was the Gospel according to Mark. It was probably composed sometime around the devastating destruction of the Temple by the Romans in the year 70 CE – perhaps between 68-73 according to renowned NT scholar, Raymond Brown.[2] It was likely written for a persecuted community of Christians living in Rome. Was it written by the John Mark of Acts who was a follower of Peter and Paul? I don't know; pseudonymous writing was common back then. Does it really matter? Nah, I don't think so.

            The Gospel according to Matthew was likely written next, probably sometime in the 80s. It borrows heavily from Mark as well as from some lost or undiscovered source scholars call Q. This Gospel was perhaps written in or around Antioch to a community of very Jewish Christians. Was the tax-collector, Matthew, the actual author? I doubt it, but that isn't to say some of the details contained within it could not have derived from the apostle himself.

            Next we have the Gospel according to Luke. This is the longest of the four Gospels and the most exquisite in style. It also was probably written in the 80s, and I would venture to say that it was composed after Matthew. It too borrows from Mark and from that Q source that Matthew used. But some of our favorite Gospel stories, like the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan, are only found in Luke. Since these three Gospels are so closely related due to Luke and Matthew's dependence on Mark, they are known as the synoptic Gospels - synoptic (another fancy-schmancy word you can use to impress your friends) meaning that they can be looked at together. Was it written by Luke, the physician and follower of Paul? Eh. Who can say for certain? What is clear is that the author was a well-educated Greek and an absolutely fabulous writer! Luke, by the way, also wrote the Acts of the Apostles as a sequel to his Gospel – the only sequel found in the NT.

            And then there's John. Many Christians who have read (or even haven't read) the four Gospels will tell you that John is their favorite. It was even the favorite of St. Francis of Assisi. Indeed, it's a beautiful Gospel, so don't get me wrong, but I'm more of a fan of the three synoptics. The Gospel according to John differs greatly in style and narrative than the others, but the essentials are all there: Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection. The date of its composition could be as early as the 80s with some parts edited as late as 110. Was it written by John the son of Zebedee? Of all of the names attributed to the Gospels, I have the hardest time believing that John, the disciple of Jesus, actually wrote this one. The author seems to have been someone from a particular community of Christians, referred to as the "Johannine community," which may have been influenced very early on from one of Jesus' disciples. The three letters of John were written after the Gospel, and also derive from this Johannine Christian community. The book of Revelation appears to reflect some Johannine influence, though was not composed by the same authors of the Gospel or Johannine letters. Revelation (not Revelations with and 's', one professor was very adamant to point out) was written toward the end of the first century, probably around 92-96 CE.[3] It's a crazy-fascinating book, and many people have questions about it, so I hope to devote a post to Revelation sometime in the future.

            This leaves us with the Letter to the Hebrews and the Catholic Letters. Hebrews is a curious text, and in fact is more of a homily than a letter. Unlike the other NT epistles, the author of Hebrews does not refer at all to himself by name. Both the author and the audience are difficult to discern. Given its references to Jewish religious practices and the Hebrew Scriptures, it would seem the audience was a very Jewish rather than Gentile Christian community. Debates abound as to when it was written, but it had to be earlier than 95 CE, because St. Clement quotes it in a letter he wrote to Corinth around that year. Brown suggests as early as the 60s but more likely in the 80s.[4]

            The Catholic Letters get lumped under that title, not because they are "Catholic" – as in Catholic and not Protestant or Orthodox – but catholic as in general or universal. They were perceived by the early Church to have been for a more general audience, rather than particular communities. The three letters of John also fall under the Catholic Letters, but I mentioned them once already, and I won't get into them again. This leaves us with 1 & 2 Peter, James, and Jude. Were the authors of these letters the Peter, James, and Jude of the Gospels? Again, I doubt it, but arguments can be made that 1 Peter, James, and Jude were written relatively early and may have very close ties with the apostles. A theory circulates that 1 Peter may have been dictated by the apostle to a scribe. Then again, arguments can also be made that they were composed toward the end of the first century (70 - 100) as well. So we can't be sure either way. 2 Peter is surely the latest, for it references 1 Peter, Jude, and Pauline literature. Brown suggests a date as late as 130 CE ("give or take a decade").[5] The Catholic Letters tend to be easily forgotten, as the four Gospels and the writings of Paul dominate our New Testament imaginations. Nevertheless, they are part of our Scriptures and are sacred. Plus, they're short letters anyway, so they're worth our time to give 'em a gander.

            So there you have it. A whirlwind tour of the New Testament. Whew! I think I mentioned each of the 27 books of the NT at least once. Hopefully this gives you a taste of what all is contained in the NT, who wrote it, and when it was written. Admittedly, aside from the undisputed letters of Paul, the precise who and when of the Christian Scriptures is a little clouded, since many texts were written under pseudonyms. We can at least say, though, that all of the writings were composed within about a hundred years of Jesus' death and resurrection. Next time I hope to clarify a little bit about why these books made it into our canon of Scripture, and why other Christian (or some not-so-Christian) writings didn't get in.

            Since we are just over our first week in Lent, and this is usually the time that Catholics are still kind of scrambling to figure out what they're going to do for for the season, here is a suggestion. Read an entire Gospel, anyone you'd like, from beginning to end. It may seem like a lot, but this isn't just a suggestion for the week. You have all of Lent, though I would recommend trying to read it in no more than 3 or 4 sittings. It's better to get a whole story in context than just snippets here and there. Read it like you would any other book. Get invested in the characters, the plot, the twists. See what surprises you, or puzzles you, or frustrates you. What brings you joy and comfort? What strengthens your faith? What challenges you? Either way, just have fun with it. I haven't written much on the Gospels, but it's good to read them with a blind eye at least once anyway. Still, I like to recommend Bibles with good footnotes, like the New American Bible, to help clarify confusing texts.

            As always, you can send me comments or questions via Facebook, Twitter, e-mail, or the comment box below. I think I worked out some of the kinks of the comment box, so if you've had difficulty with it in the past, it should work now. And don't forget to take the survey. Until next time...

Peace and all good!

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[1] Speaking of citing sources, this post would not have been possible without these texts:

Brown Raymond E. An Introduction to the New Testament. New York: Doubleday, 1997.

Johnson, Luke Timothy. The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation. Revised ed. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1999.

And the prefaces to the books of the NT found in 

The Saint Joseph Edition of the New American Bible. New York: Catholic Book Publishing Co., 1992. 

[2] Brown, 127.

[3] Ibid., 774.

[4] Ibid, 684.

[5] Ibid., 762.