My Baby-Mamma’s Blog
Cassie, my baby-mamma, just started a new blog to track her journey through motherhood.
As for me, I’ll just write stuff here whenever I feel like talking about how cute my little Phoebe is – which will, I’m sure, become increasingly frequent as the time draws near.
Check out her blog: www.fuerststepsintomotherhood.blogspot.com
Abraham Alone: Land and Offspring
Central to Yahweh’s covenant relationship with Abraham is the promises of land and offspring. The land is dealt with first in chapters 12-15, where it is clear the Canaanites will be removed from the land and it will be given to Abraham and his offspring (12:6-7); the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah being the first fruits of this promise. This explains Yahweh’s speech in 18:17-21, where He tells Abraham of his plans for these cities precisely because Abraham’s offspring will inhabit this land and will need to understand that holiness is essential to maintaining possession.
Though it is promised at the beginning of his story (12:1), it is not until the end that Abraham attains any portion of the land, and a small piece, even then, for his and Sarah’s burial (23:17-18) near the trees of Mamre (23:17).[1] That Abraham never fully realizes this promise is reinforced by the narrators’ repeated reference to the land as “Canaan,” though Abraham has lived there for years (12:5, 13:12, 16:3, 17:8, 23:2 & 19). However, it cannot be ignored that Abraham is staking a claim for himself and Yahweh through the land when he builds altars to Yahweh and calls on Yahweh’s name (12:8), and plants trees (21:33).
A second feature in Yahweh’s covenant is the promise of offspring, dealt with in chapters 16-24. The offspring promise evades fulfillment for a number of years after the initial promise is made. Yet Abraham righteously believes God will fulfill what He has resolved to do pertaining to the promise of progeny (15:16).
Offspring and ancestry play vital roles in the narrative as the means by which a person might live on after they die. Abrahamic religion has no concept of eternal glory or damnation; both are restricted to this life. His offspring, then, assist Abraham in seeing himself as part of a larger narrative Yahweh is developing; a narrative extending beyond him into a larger cosmic plan (12:3).
So, the promise of offspring also highlights the importance of family. The idea of an autonomous individual is entirely absent. Indeed, the text views independence and self-seeking as negative. The prime example of this being Lot’s self-serving decision to choose the beautiful plains of Jordan (13:10-11), which ultimately costs him his wife, his home and the purity of his family line (19:36).Yet even when he violates this norm, a sense of familial responsibility (12:17) and obligation (14:10-16) arises in the clan. Such family solidarity is not even not broken in death (25:8).[2]
[1] Trees appear frequently in these narratives, often in association with the building of altars (13:18) or an appearance of Yahweh (18:1). Though the mentioning of them is unexplained and ambiguous, they probably symbolizing permanence and ownership over a land where he roams as a transient nomad, a transience which can be endured, however, as the land is a promised, perpetual possession (17:8).
[2] I find it particularly interesting that Abraham goes to be with his fathers, when it was his fathers that he was originally called forth from. Abraham’s ancestors were probably polytheists, but whatever life-after-death theology there is in the Abraham narratives, it seems to include those who do not follow Yahweh. Unless, of course, this phrase is to be taken as idiomatic.
Abraham Alone
What would our theological worldview look like if we only had Abraham’s narratives to work with? In the next three posts I will do exploratory pieces on how the Abrahamic story viewed God without relation to the rest of the Christian canon. This is not necessarily a “my personal theology” piece. It is just some thoughts and a bit of exploration.
The three posts will be centered on three lenses through which we might view Abrahamic religion: First, a specific deity, Yahweh, has entered history, calling and covenanting with the patriarch Abraham. Second, central to Yahweh’s covenant relationship with Abraham is the promises of land and offspring. And finally, Abrahamic religion was distinct from, but at times in solidarity with, Canaanite religions and cultures.
Abrahamic religion rests on the root premise that a single,[1] specific deity has entered history, calling and covenanting with the patriarch Abraham. Though the narrative identifies this deity by numerous names and titles, two stand out: Yahweh (employed over 65x), the personal name of this deity, and Elohim (employed over 40x), a general word for a god, often used both interchangeably with Yahweh (14:22) and at times is given specific nuance by the name Yahweh (24:12, 27, 48).
This Yahweh is not a deity inextricably attached to Abraham or Canaan. Rather, Yahweh transcends both, as demonstrated by His ability to call (12:1) and protect Abraham in foreign lands (12:17), repeatedly leave Abraham after speaking with him (17:22, 18:33), and the language of transcendence the narrative employs, such as when the “cry has come up” to Him from Sodom and Gomorrah (18:21). Furthermore, there is no reference to a centralized city. Abraham’s nomadic lifestyle kept his religion decentralized, preserving the idea of Yahweh as “Other” than Abraham or any geographic location. Indeed, the whole of earth and heaven is owned by Him (14:22).
Yet, while Yahweh is “Other,” it is not beyond Him to interact with free creatures or take on physical form (18:22). He is not threatened by doubts (15:1-6) and is not impatient when they question His actions (18:22-32). Yet because He interacts with free creatures, Yahweh also holds them morally responsible for their decisions (18:20-21), all the while sympathetic to their mistakes (20:6-7), even repeated ones (12:10-20, 20:1-18).[2]
Yahweh’s immanence is displayed further when He enters time and space.[3] In this He provides a purpose for history, blessing the nations through the historical lineage of Abraham (12:3), which permeates history (17:7). The covenantal promises are “everlasting” (17:7, 8, 13, 18) and this covenant is grounded in historical acts which can be remembered (15:7). He stands above history as its Judge (18:25), and solidifies and protects His covenant with Abraham with historical acts (12:17, 20:3). But most of all, Yahweh’s historical immanence is revealed in the fact that He has spoken.
The spoken word, amidst all the varied means of Yahweh’s self-revelation, is the most frequent and most important. It is the key to understanding all of Abraham’s actions from leaving his father’s house (12:1-4) to the near sacrifice of his son (22:1-3).[4] Because Yahweh has spoken,[5] obedience is imperative and must not only be immediate (12:4), but also wholehearted. Abraham exemplifies the desired response by leaving his sense of identity and security when Yahweh calls (12:3). Indeed, this leaving of his identity also gets highlighted when Yahweh gives him a new name, symbolizing Abraham’s new identity under covenant (17:5).
Subsequent to the initial call, Yahweh also covenants with Abraham in a bilateral covenant involving promises from Yahweh and obligations for both parties. Abraham’s responsibilities include walking blameless before Yahweh (17:1) and ritual circumcision.[6] First Abraham, then his offspring, must be circumcised on the eighth day after birth (21:4). Circumcision symbolizes the commitment between Abraham and Yahweh (17:10), and those who disobey will be cut off from the people (17:14).
Yahweh solidifies the covenant in a dream where He walks through the carcasses of designated animals (15:8). Generally, in ancient near eastern treaty ceremonies, it is not the suzerain who walks through the carcasses, but the vassal. This action signifies the painful destruction of the vassal should they scorn the covenantal stipulations. Yet, interestingly, here it is not the vassal, Abraham, but the suzerain, Yahweh, committing to take the punishment for the broken covenant (15:17-18). Clearly the covenant entails a personal commitment by Yahweh. Indeed, He even covenants with Abraham twice (15:7-19, 17:1-14) to emphasize His deep investment in the fulfillment of this covenant.[7]
This is not an absent or silent deity. Yahweh is a God who engages with and gives purpose to the world and his servant Abraham.
[1] The text is relatively unclear as to whether other deities actually exist or not. The title used of Yahweh in 14:19, “God Most High” (which will be discussed later), assumes a possible hierarchy of deities, at the top of which resides Yahweh. Abrahamic religion may not be strictly monotheistic, but whatever the case, the assumption of the text is that only one deity, Yahweh, is to be followed by Abraham.
[2]That Abrahamic religion assumes Yahweh interacts with free creatures is demonstrated most clearly in the narrative where Abraham barters with Yahweh over the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah. Though the cities are not spared, the narrative directs us to understand Yahweh as a deity able to be reasoned with, objected to, and who might legitimately change His mind (18:24-32).
[3] Abrahamic religion knows nothing of how Yahweh relates to time, but only that He participates in historical events.
[4] While noting the spoken word as the primary means of revelation, it should also be noted that Yahweh frequently appears to Abraham as well. These appearances often without explanation, but at times are explained as the Angel of Yahweh (16:7, 9, 11; 22:11, 15). Angel of Yahweh appearances often get highlighted narratives focused on God’s interaction others who are not Abraham: Hagar and Ishmael (16:7) and possibly Abraham’s servant whom he sent to find Isaac a bride (24:40).
[5] Other means by which Yahweh communicates are also important. Specifically, when Abraham is connected with prophets (20:7) through his visions (15:1) and receiving the “word of Yahweh,” (15:1, 4).
[6] That circumcision is distinctively male rite suggests Abrahamic religion is patriarchal. Male headship is assumed in Abrahamic religion, and Abraham is the representative of the whole household. This may explain the emphasis on gravesites, for it allows subsequent followers of Yahweh access to Abraham and ideally the blessings which flow from his historical actions. This also explains the unquestioned authority Abraham wields with the members of his household, even when he exiles his son (21:14). Yet, while Abrahamic religion is clearly patriarchal, it should be noted that Sarah is not excluded entirely from the narrative. She is included in the covenant (17:15) and is as much a chosen vessel as Abraham, for the child of promise comes through her, not Hagar. Also, Hagar narratives not only suggest Yahweh’s concern for the outcast and marginalized, but also that Yahweh makes promises to women.
[7] In chapter 17, Abraham is not the only one included in the covenant. Four parties are involved. Yahweh’s obligations include making Abraham the father of many nations (17:2), giving him the land of Canaan (17:8,), bringing kings from him as offspring (17:6), and making the covenant everlasting (17:7). Abraham’s obligations include circumcision (17:10-14) and a name change (17:5). Sarah’s also involves a name change (17:15) and the promise offspring (17:16), specifically Isaac (17:21). And Ishmael’s promise includes offspring and nations coming from him (17:20), while circumscion still remains necessary even though he isn’t the child of promise. Once again, suggesting this covenant is conditioned upon obedience.
More Proof Nickelback Isn’t a Real Band…As if You Needed It.
My friend Eric reminded me of this earlier today, so I thought I’d post it for you.
It’s a mix of two Nickelback songs played at the same time – as you will see, it’s the same song under a different title…..urgh…manufactured for the MTV generation which has no taste for real art.
The Continuum of the Sacred: The Spirit and the Un-Mundane
In a previous post I argued that everything is sacred. That is, all aspects of our lives are sacred because the Spirit permeates all things. Taking a bath is sacred. Baptism is sacred. Doing the laundry is sacred. The Eucharist is sacred.
What I unwittingly communicated in that post, however, was that taking a bath and getting Baptized are sacred in the same way and to the same degree. And though Luther says that every time we wash our face we should think of our Baptism, I am convinced that this reasoning is flawed. There is something distinctively set apart about the sacraments. That is, the sacraments are holy in a different way and to a different degree than taking a shower is holy.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I think I was on the right track in that post, I just think there were implications of that line of reasoning that I hadn’t explored. In this post, I want to suggest that the problem with the previous post wasn’t so much that I uplifted the bath (which was the intent), but that in doing so I unfortunately drug Baptism down to the level of a bath.
Instead of positing an “everything is equally sacred” model, I want to continue to suggest that everything is sacred, including a bath, but that all things are not sacred in the same way or to the same degree. While a bath is sacred because the Spirit is present with us during that time, there is a very real sense in which the church has always held that Baptism is a time and ritual which invokes the Spirit in a special way. The sacraments of the church invite the presence of the Spirit in a distinct way. So, yes, my bath might be sacred because the Spirit communes with me there – indeed, some of my best times of worship and fellowship with the Spirit have been while showering – but it is not sacred in the same way as Baptism.
To illustrate this I want to pull from the Old Testament/Hebrew Bible. Under the Old Covenant, the people of God worshiped and met with Yahweh at the Temple. The Temple and its objects were all considered “holy” or set apart from common use. But within the Temple there was a “Most Holy Place.” The existence of the Most Holy Place didn’t negate the holiness of the other spaces and objects, it merely suggested that there is a continuum of holiness. Everything in the Temple was holy, but this particular space and the objects within that space were more holy and holy in a different way.
So too it is with the Spirit’s activities in the life of the church. Mundane things such as eating and drinking can be made holy by the presence and activity of the Spirit of God. But there are some things which are Most Holy. Baptism, the Eucharist, the gathering together of the community on Sunday – these things are Most Holy. Common time, which is never common because of the Spirit, becomes increasingly holy. Common objects, such as bread and wine, become Most Holy during the Eucharist. And common water becomes Most Holy during Baptism.
Everything is still sacred. But some things are more sacred and in a different way.
And what was once routine was now the perfect joy – Switchfoot
The Spirit and Ceaseless Prayer
I’ve always found impossible Paul’s imperative to “pray without ceasing.” I mean, seriously, who has time for that? Even Luther’s comment that he’s so busy that he feels he has to pray for 3 hours a day doesn’t quite get at Paul’s impracticable “without ceasing” requirement – 3 hours is hardly “without ceasing.” Surely Paul doesn’t expect me to kneel beside my bed for all 16 waking hours.
But what if “without ceasing” isn’t a measurable category? What if I can’t set my stop-watch count this kind of prayer? What if I can’t gauge it? What if it can’t be calculated by the time I spend on my knees next to my bed or verbalizing prayers from the Lectionary?
I had a liberating thought a while back: Unceasing prayer can only be done in communion with the Holy Spirit…..Here me out before you say, “Thank you Captain Obvious!”
You see, this kind of prayer cannot be put on our check-list of spiritual activities for the day. Rather, it is a continual and constant communion with the Spirit throughout the day. It is the recognition that the Spirit, as a person, is always present and always engaged with us. Like the face of the Deep in Genesis 1:2, the Spirit hovers over us, always drawing us out of the chaos and into communion.
This is also a recognition that all our mundane tasks – “when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up” (Dt. 6:7) - can be done in communion with the Spirit, with an ever increasing awareness of the Spirit’s nearness. God is not distant, God the Spirit desires us to delve deep in Trinitarian fellowship.
So, while Luther’s 3 hours is important (especially as a discipline), we cannot restrict our communion with the Spirit of God to 1/8 of our day. The Spirit’s presence permeates every aspect of our lives. Every cry of our heart against injustice, even the ones we don’t utter prayers for, is heard by the Spirit as an appeal to the Father to set things right. When we hurt the Spirit groans and prays for us – even though we haven’t uttered a word.
No longer do I find Paul’s imperative an impossibility. No longer do I assume I don’t have time for that. No longer am I convicted by Luther’s prayer life in comparison with mine. Ceaseless is as simple communion with another person. It is the desires and thoughts which invite God to establish His kingdom on earth. It is our efforts to work with the Spirit to display, as true image bearers, God’s name in a chaotic and rebellious earth. It is the orientation of our being to God’s Spirit. It is our groanings to have heaven touch earth in such a way that Christ is revealed in all his goodness. In these things we draw deeper into communion with the Spirit, deeper into participation in the divine nature. In these things we pray without ceasing.
Hovering Over the Face of the Deep: The Spirit in Creation
For all our debates about the nature and genre of the Creation stories in Genesis 1 and 2, I’m amazed by the lack of discussion surrounding the meaning of the Spirit’s activities in 1:2 where the text reads, “And the Spirit of God hovered over the face of the deep.”
We’ve been so sidetracked by other questions, often questions the text isn’t even asking, that we’ve overlooked this odd and fascinating feature of the Creation narrative – the presence and activity of God’s Spirit.
Neglecting the Spirit’s role in creation is easy for us, not only because we’re distracted by the Creationism vs. Evolution questions, but also because we’ve severely limited the Spirits role in the Christian life to conviction of sin and assurance of salvation. Or, more specifically, we’ve limited the Spirit’s role to our subjective devotional lives.
But prior to the need for conviction of sin and the need for assurance of salvation, the Spirit was involved in the work of creation. Contrary to our privatized Pneumatology, the fingerprints of the Spirit are clearly displayed in the cosmos.
But what do those finger prints look like? And why was the Spirit hovering over the deep?
By placing the Spirit within Genesis 1:2, where we have the beginning of a movement from darkness and void to order and light, the author suggests the Spirit is the agent by which creation is given form and order. The Spirit is not removed from the creation; the Spirit is intimately with the creation, guiding its development and progress along with the spoken word of God.[1]
The Spirit’s hovering over the face of the deep is significant. For the ancient Hebrews, the sea was a force of chaos and unruliness. Often mythologized in Babylonian religions, the chaotic character of the sea is confirmed by numerous biblical accounts: Noah’s Flood and the destruction of the entire world, the crossing of the Red Sea, Jonah and the whale, Jesus and the calming of the Storm.[2] Even more telling is in Revelation when the sea is the place from which the great Beast comes (13:1) and, ultimately, a place to be destroyed in the new creation: “and there was no longer any sea.”(21:1)
Furthermore, within our narrative, it is important to note that the deep is possibly a subtle reference to a Babylonian deity, Tehoim, “a belligerent and monstrous ocean goddess.”[3] If so, Genesis 1:2 would have been an especially comforting verse for ancient Hebrews wrestling with the constant pressures of Babylonian culture and religion. Not only are the chaotic waters of the deep under the Spirit’s dominion, but implicitly and subversively, Babylonian religion is stripped of its power and demonstrated to be inferior to the religion of Yahweh. For in our narrative, the Spirit is holding at bay the chaotic forces of the world – Babylonian religious and cultural influence, to be more specific. The Spirit drifts over the deep and demonstrates the dominion of God over the disorder soiling the life of an exiled people attempting to be faithful to Yahweh’s covenant “in a foreign land.” (Ps. 137:1-4)[4]
I know the objections will be that there are no forces of evil yet b/c Genesis 3 has not yet occurred. But, again, like the Creationism debates, I don’t think that’s the question the narrative asks.[5]
Rather, it assumes some sort of rebellion has already occurred. You see, the pre-Fall narrative is replete with numerous subtle references to Babylonian deities, and even words which indicated violent subjugation (1:28).[6] Furthermore, such an answer also accounts for the mysterious serpent in Genesis 3 – another possible allusion to a Babylonian deity, and one which would, again, make a lot of sense to an ancient Hebrew person struggling with the constant influences of Babylonian religion and culture.[7]
Thus, what we’re learning from Genesis 1:2 is that those forces of chaos, those things in the world that are disorderly and unruly, are still held in check by the Spirit. The Spirit is already at work to bring the creation back to its original intention – the order of God.
The implication of this is, yes, that there were forces of death operative within creation prior to Genesis 3, but those forces of death were not yet operative within humanity or the earth in which humanity resided. But these forces of death are being checked by the Spirit. Indeed, even though the narrative makes subtle references to pagan deities, these subtle references are subtle precisely because the narrator wants the reader to see that the sea was created by God and that God is in control. The sea is not a deity, it is part of Yahweh’s creation and He is sovereign over it as the Spirit hovers over the deep and keeps it in its place (Ps. 140:9). “The author here plainly understands God’s act of creation to have involved some type of conflict with cosmic chaos, but also clearly portrays Yahweh as being more than up to the task.”[8]
So what is the Spirit doing hovering over the face of the deep? Displaying and maintaining God’s sovereignty over creation. Demonstrating God’s intimate concern for the details of His creation. And ensuring the ancient reader that God maintains control over the chaotic influences and forces of false religion. The gigs up: the Sea is demythologized and shown to be part of creation. It is not an independent agent, and insofar as chaotic forces do control the sea, Genesis 1 will not allow us to despair, as if Yahweh has lost his sovereignty.
[1] For a great discussion on the closeness of the Word and the Spirit, see Walther Eichrodt, Theology of the Old Testament. Vol. II (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1967), 49-50. Eichrodt argues that there are times in Israel’s history where the “word” and the “Spirit” are nearly identical in nature and indistinguishable from one another.
[2] Also see Job 7:12 when Job asks God is he is a cosmic opponent that needs to be guarded and watched – like the Sea and the Dragon.
[3] Victor P. Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapter 1-17. NICOT. (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1990), 110.
[4] Obviously this assumes a later date for the final composition of Genesis. I have no problem saying the sources go back much further, but the final redactors included these stories with these details to communicate certain and specific theological truths to their contemporaries in exile.
[5] Notice how the narrative never says the “deep” was “good.”
[6] In 1:28, the word the first of the 2 words for “dominion/rule” is an extremely violent one. It is used elsewhere in Hebrew literature to refer to pillaging after war. The question, then, becomes, why is there a need for violent subjugation if the creation as a whole is still under God’s rule?
[7] The serpent, like the sea, is de-mythologized and is demonstrated to be merely a creature made by the Lord God, not a deity to be worshipped (3:1).
[8] Greg Body, God at War.
