500 Years of Reading Deeply

THIS MONTH'S LECTIONARY includes very familiar texts, such as Psalm 23 and the command to love one’s neighbor as oneself. With these passages comes an opportunity to read them from a fresh perspective. It is tempting to read individual verses with reference to ourselves and our contemporary circumstances; indeed, that is the only way some read the texts. However, the cyclic nature of the lectionary provides regular opportunities to engage these texts from different perspectives.

October marks the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation, which revolutionized the way many people gained access to the biblical texts, newly translated out of Latin and into their own language. The Reformation put a high value on a believer’s access to the scriptures, which is now easy to take for granted. The translations produced during the period of the Reformation signified a deeper journey into the scriptures – and not just for scholars.

Bearing this in mind, what might reading more deeply look like for those who are not biblical scholars? Most if not all of these texts were composed to be read aloud. These texts often “read” quite differently when heard aloud. Perhaps the most important question we can ask of a text is how it was understood in its originating context, recognizing the differences between our world and the worlds of the Bible. Lastly, it is essential to ask how the message of a particular passage functions in our world, particularly when some of its framework reflects values we no longer share.

[ October 1 ]

Own Your Stuff

Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32; Psalm 25:1-9; Philippians 2:1-13; Matthew 21:23-32

LIFE IS UNFAIR. Sometimes folk blame everything that goes wrong on someone else. That too is unfair – especially when blaming everything on God. In Ezekiel, God has had enough. Twice God says: “What do you mean my ways are unfair? Your ways are unfair” (Ezekiel 18:25, 29)!

To God, fairness looks like holding accountable those who sin while forgiving those who repent (18:26-27). Yet the chapter opens with a proverb that presents an alternative ethic: “The parents have eaten sour grapes and the children’s teeth are set on edge” (18:2). This means that one’s sins redound to one’s children. But God rejects this theology (“this proverb shall no more be used by you,” verse 3), though it is found in other parts of the Bible (see Exodus 34:7 and Numbers 14:18).

A superficial reading of Ezekiel’s theology might suggest that folk can do whatever they want and be granted forgiveness when they say “sorry.” Indeed, some may count on it and plan accordingly! We live in an era of the “non-apology apology.” Public figures say, “I’m sorry if my words offended you,” then expect public forgiveness and for the media to move on. True repentance requires more than even a genuine apology.

Repentance is demonstrated by “turning away” from sin and by doing what the law – God’s law here – calls for. Words are not enough. In looking for repentance, God assesses subsequent actions as well as words. We must own our offenses, honestly acknowledge them, and turn away from them.

[ October 8 ]

Divine Violence

Isaiah 5:1-7; Psalm 80:7-15; Philippians 3:4b-14; Matthew 21:33-46

THESE LESSONS are surprisingly similar. Isaiah, the psalm, and Matthew each portray Israel as God’s planting, vine, or vineyard. In each there is an assault or the threat of one. In Isaiah, despite God’s tender labor, the vines produced wild, rather than cultivated, grapes. The divine gardener now threatens to destroy the vineyard. In Psalm 80, God has broken down the wall of Israel configured as a vineyard and left it to be looted. The vineyard asks how it failed its master planter and receives no answer (verses 14-15). In Matthew, those entrusted by the owner to keep the vineyard turn on the harvesters and even on the owner’s heir.

Each text provides a rationale for a divine vengeance taken out violently on the vineyard, on Israel, and on the murderous tenants. In particular, the cycles of violence that Israel experiences, when read as punishment followed by periods of respite and reward, bear an uncomfortable similarity to the cycle of domestic violence. These stories are troubling, with their ready resort to, and easy justification of, violence.

While some seek to draw attention to violence in the religious texts and traditions of others, notably Islam, many neglect the violence that occurs regularly in the canons of Christianity and Judaism. Texts such as these are an invitation to discern the difference between what is essential to the biblical message and what, instead, is a product of their context – Bronze and Iron Age slavery, gender norms, and punitive violence.

[ October 15 ]

Rest in God

Isaiah 25:1-9; Psalm 23; Philippians 4:1-9; Matthew 22:1-14

DEATH REMAINS the ultimate limiting boundary for humanity, even with all our knowledge of medicine and science. Isaiah’s proclamation – “O Lord, thou art my God; I will exalt thee” – offers a vision of God whose sovereignty extends over all things, including death. In Isaiah’s vision, God is immanent – providing for the poor (25:4) and wiping tears (25:8) – as well as transcendent – abolishing the scourge of death forever (25:7-8). This in a world in which death was a constant companion. Child mortality, death in childbirth, and death from what are now treatable ailments all resulted in much shorter lifespans than ours. And there were the ever-present, ever-threatening Assyrians, whose lethal tortures would be employed by Vlad the Impaler (later romanticized as Dracula). This context makes Isaiah’s proclamation that death will be destroyed all the more powerful.

Psalm 23 offers a famously tender portrait of God, but with no small degree of irony. The psalmist pictures herself as a sheep, shepherded by God, who seeks to remain in God’s house all the days of her life. Her prayer will be answered, though perhaps not as she thinks. Sheep are brought to God’s house to be sacrificed. Read in this way, the psalm offers a vision of a life completely entrusted to God, even as one goes to one’s death.

Modern people can fear death every bit as much as ancient people. Our world is still full of terrors. These treasures from scripture remind us that God remains powerfully sovereign and tenderly present.

[ October 22 ]

Naming God

Isaiah 45:1-7; Psalm 96:1-13; 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Matthew 22:15-22

LORD. KING. These masculine titles are applied to human men as well as God. In the United States, we don’t have lords or kings. Those titles are not part of our vocabulary for human beings. We often don’t know or don’t remember that this language was used to describe men and gods at the same time during the centuries covered by the scriptures. It is still used in this way in some countries today, such as Great Britain and its former colonies. God was described as “King of kings, Lord of lords, and God of gods.” God was greater than all others in the same paradigms, the first two of which were masculine and included men.

Perhaps we should expand our vocabularies for God to reflect the God who is above and beyond all human paradigms. Scripture translations use “Lord” to replace the letters YHWH, the “tetragrammaton” that signals God’s name and is not pronounced, out of reverence. Scripture provides a wealth of names and images: Creator, “I am,” the Holy One, Fire of Sinai, and many more. Unlike “lord” and “king,” these names don’t apply gender to God who – despite the gender constructs of biblical languages – is above and beyond all human categories.

Isaiah 45 portrays a God who has no peers in heaven or on earth. It’s long past time that our translations, liturgies, and prayers name God in a way that we don’t name men: “I am the Creator, and there is no other; besides me there is no god. ... [T]here is no one besides me; I am the Fire of Sinai, and there is no other” (Isaiah 45:5-6).

[ October 29 ]

Love in Context

Leviticus 19:1-2, 15-18; Psalm 1; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46

"YOU SHALL LOVE your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18 and Matthew 22:39). This powerful command transcends Judaism and Christianity. It is embraced by peoples from all faiths and none. But this commandment does not occur in a vacuum. The genesis of the command is in Leviticus, where it is tied to the command to “be holy as God is holy” (Leviticus 19:2).

Holiness as an idea can be off-putting. What some call holiness others call self-righteous and judgmental. But holiness is a fundamental characteristic of God, one that God expects humanity to emulate. In Leviticus, God commands Israel – and by extension those who read as Israel – to “be holy as God is holy.” Leviticus 19 has a very practical understanding of holiness: It is marked by justice, fairness, and integrity (verses 15-16) and by foregoing hatred and vengeance (verses 17-18). In short, holiness is just and ethical conduct. This conduct is also the standard for measuring love of neighbor. The measure of whether we love others or emulate God’s holiness is not our words but our actions.

These days, we talk a lot about love. Our culture is saturated with images and stories of romantic and sexual love. Too often those stories don’t live up to the standard set in Leviticus or by Jesus. Our actions as individuals and as a society toward those who experience injustice reveal whether we love or not. We cannot say we love while at the same time supporting discrimination against anyone because of their race, gender, or love’s expression. Love is what you do.

"Living the Word" reflections for September can be found here. "Preaching the Word," Sojourners' online resource for sermon preparation and Bible study, is available at sojo.net/ptw.