What happened to January? It's been a busy month, and a good month, here at Richmond Hill. I've really enjoyed the Jesus read-a-thon so far and hope I can stay motivated. Many thanks to family and friends for feedback! I just wanted to take a minute to think out loud...or, on paper, about next month - "historical Jesus." (I use "quotes" a lot, don't I?)
"Historical Jesus"...as opposed to what? Ahistorical Jesus? Super-historical Jesus? Religious Jesus? Eternal Jesus? Isn't religion and spirituality as much a part of history as, well, history? Yes, yes, I'm missing the point. "Historical Jesus" is the process and result of studying Jesus using modern historical methods, right? Is "modern" code for "me and other white guys tell you how it is?"
If I want to study Alexander the Great, I can read ancient stories about him; I can look for old stuff from his day and age; I can try to learn his language, at least in it's written form; I can try to compare him to other kings and conquerors; I can study people or writers or places that he impacted. What else?
Maybe I can get enough information to write an event-based narrative of his life - he was involved in this thing that happened, then this crazy thing happened. Maybe I can attempt to recreate his psychological life - he wanted this, he believed that, he was really silly as a kid but grew out of it. Maybe I could understand his social role - in his family, in Macedonia, in government, in the army, in relationships, in foreign lands - how all that worked. What other angles could I take?
When I think about studying Jesus this way, my first reaction is - that's crazy! There's way too much material! We've got 2000 years of people writing and singing and building and fighting about Jesus. Wouldn't all of that be relevant to understanding the history of Jesus - the big events in his life, his psychological development, how he impacted others and continues to impact others, what roles he filled and continues to fill? I guess I'm skirting a question that's way over my head - what is an individual person's history? where does the person end and the society begin? warning, warning, rabbit hole.
Plus, except for a few side-notes from Roman and Jewish authors, all the early information about Jesus - the New Testament and some non-canonical stuff - comes from people who thought Jesus was the best thing since pita bread. How do you know that they thought that? Well, at least, they said Jesus was awesome. How could a historian rely only on material as biased as that?
Double plus, the majority of Christians today and almost all the Christians of the past have believed that the New Testament is historically reliable - that most, if not all, the stuff in the Gospels happened as written. Narrative discrepancies and historical missteps are neither here nor there. Yes, earnest preachers and over-eager liberals like me get worked up about inerrancy and whatnot, but at the end of the day, most Christians have more important things to worry about - work, kids, life, death. The Bible was written; it is True, in some form or another; that is enough. (Is there an apocalyptic flavor to Christian trust in the Bible? "Some parts may seem confusing now, but in the end, it will all become clear.") Why would a historian want rock that boat,
especially a historian that is Christian?
Well, I'm hoping to find that out! From the little I've read so far I'd say the "historical Jesus" movement combines commitment to historical methods and textual criticism, deep desire to understand Jesus, and frankly, an evangelist's call to share a "message."
The only things I've read that might fall under the "historical Jesus" umbrella are Jesus and the Disinherited, by Howard Thurman, in which he describes Jesus' message to a Jewish peasantry ruled and exploited by Roman conquerors and their local clients.
Jesus: A Revolutionary Biography, by John Dominic Crossan, which is a summary of some of his other books, I think: if I'm remembering correctly his end result is like a cross between Jewish prophet of justice and Cynic philosopher of world-denial. Maybe I can read that one again this month.
There are a few great chapters in Erhman's textbook about historical Jesus work; he explains his criteria clearly (multiple attestation, dissimilarity, contextual credibility), and then he demonstrates how to use them. He concludes that it is highly probable that (I'm forgetting some) Jesus was baptized by John, Jesus preached about the imminent kingdom of God (apocalypse - out with the old world, in with the new), he had twelve disciples, he was betrayed, he was crucified by Pilate (this is the most definite of all the "facts"), his own disciples claimed that Jesus came back to life. He also used an interesting argument to claim that Jesus' was primarily an apocalyptic prophet. He called it "the book-ends" thesis: if John the Baptist preached the end is near (prepare the way of the Lord; God's about to show up in a big way), and Paul and other early Christian writers preached the end is near (keep awake, stay strong, the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night), what's the most reasonable reconstruction of Jesus' message? The end is near.
The Five Gospels, by the Jesus Seminar, in its commentary on the text uses similar criteria to Erhman, but for some unexplained reason disavows all apocalyptic sayings. The book also is propagandish, splashy, not necessarily in a bad way. They definitely wanted to shake things up. It's fun. The resulting portrait of Jesus bears a striking resemblance to the Dude from The Big Lebowski. One of their methods, which they don't really spell out at first, is the use of "pole star" sayings. They agreed early on (before they started voting?) that certain sayings were very likely "authentic," and so they used those sayings to guide them in debates and disagreements about other sayings. This early agreement created a bias toward consistency (all the other sayings need to agree with the "pole star" sayings) and tended to override multiple attestation and other criteria.
I'm looking forward to February, the "quest" for my very own historical Jesus!
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Week 4
March: Vol 1 - John Lewis, Andrew Aydin, Nate Powel
The Five Gospels: What Did Jesus Really Say? - Funk, Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar
How about this for a Bible study exercise? Create your own "sayings Gospel!"
Step 1: Divide the Gospels amongst yourselves. If you have 8 people, you can each take half a Gospel.
2: Read through your portion of the Gospel. Slow down and take your time when you get to the words of Jesus. A red letter Bible might be helpful.
3: Write down all the words of Jesus that strike you as "sayings." Leave space between each saying.
What is a saying? You tell me! My working definition is - a short statement (one or two sentences) that begs you to use it again and again, not necessarily in it's original context. A proverb, a pun, a punch line, a "pithy" aphorism, a strange comparison, a dramatic pronouncement. As you're doing the exercise, imagine yourself "listening" to Jesus. What short sayings would you remember the most? Don't record whole parables or stories; leave those for the next Bible study exercise.
4: Get together with your study group and share your findings. Compare and contrast your experience. Was it fun? Insightful? Misleading?
5: Cut up your papers so that each saying is on it's own strip. Try to match identical or very closely "parallel" sayings and tape them together.
6: If you have time, try to collect your sayings into thematic family groups. Such as, love, role reversal, apocalypse, faith, etc.. Whatever yall can agree upon. Try 12 groups at first. Then seven. Then three.
7: As a final activity - try to make a Top-Ten list; ten sayings that seem to summarize or represent all of Jesus' sayings.
The Five Gospels has inspired me to do this activity! Maybe I can try it over the next couple weeks and post my list.
This is a wild book with a wild history. In the early 90's Robert Funk and the Westar Institute, a think tank out in California, put together a team of New Testament scholars, collaborated on a translation of the four canonical Gospels as well as the Gospel of Thomas, then voted on the "authenticity" of the words of Jesus recorded in the Gospels (their plan was to vote on the deeds at a later date - has that been published?).
Among the many questions they had to answer were - how can you divide the Gospel words of Jesus into discrete sections in order to vote on them? how can you vote on them in a way that reflects the diversity of opinion in the group (the weighted average solution was brilliant)? how can you possibly find the "pre-Christian" words of Jesus (by using various criteria, which they inconsistently applied, in my opinion)? how can you determine which words or stories could have survived the "oral transmission" phase of Christian history? and, among the many orally transmittable words and stories, which ones are probably "commonplace proverbs" that worked their way into Christian teaching in the early years of the religion?
Their findings are fascinating, and just as fascinating are the descriptions in the book of their disagreements, debates, and commitment to the voting process. Also fun is the translation itself. Some notable differences from the NRSV:
-Congratulations, you poor! {Blessed are the poor}
-In the beginning there was the divine word and wisdom {word; logos}
-they consistently use "trust" instead of "faith" or "believe," for example "Don't be afraid, just have trust" (Mark 5:36), or "I swear to you, even if you have trust no larger than a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move." (Matt 17:20)
As for March, a graphic novel about John Lewis, I'll describe that next week, after I've read Vol 2 and 3. Vol 1 was amazing! So cool!
The Five Gospels: What Did Jesus Really Say? - Funk, Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar
How about this for a Bible study exercise? Create your own "sayings Gospel!"
Step 1: Divide the Gospels amongst yourselves. If you have 8 people, you can each take half a Gospel.
2: Read through your portion of the Gospel. Slow down and take your time when you get to the words of Jesus. A red letter Bible might be helpful.
3: Write down all the words of Jesus that strike you as "sayings." Leave space between each saying.
What is a saying? You tell me! My working definition is - a short statement (one or two sentences) that begs you to use it again and again, not necessarily in it's original context. A proverb, a pun, a punch line, a "pithy" aphorism, a strange comparison, a dramatic pronouncement. As you're doing the exercise, imagine yourself "listening" to Jesus. What short sayings would you remember the most? Don't record whole parables or stories; leave those for the next Bible study exercise.
4: Get together with your study group and share your findings. Compare and contrast your experience. Was it fun? Insightful? Misleading?
5: Cut up your papers so that each saying is on it's own strip. Try to match identical or very closely "parallel" sayings and tape them together.
6: If you have time, try to collect your sayings into thematic family groups. Such as, love, role reversal, apocalypse, faith, etc.. Whatever yall can agree upon. Try 12 groups at first. Then seven. Then three.
7: As a final activity - try to make a Top-Ten list; ten sayings that seem to summarize or represent all of Jesus' sayings.
The Five Gospels has inspired me to do this activity! Maybe I can try it over the next couple weeks and post my list.
This is a wild book with a wild history. In the early 90's Robert Funk and the Westar Institute, a think tank out in California, put together a team of New Testament scholars, collaborated on a translation of the four canonical Gospels as well as the Gospel of Thomas, then voted on the "authenticity" of the words of Jesus recorded in the Gospels (their plan was to vote on the deeds at a later date - has that been published?).
Among the many questions they had to answer were - how can you divide the Gospel words of Jesus into discrete sections in order to vote on them? how can you vote on them in a way that reflects the diversity of opinion in the group (the weighted average solution was brilliant)? how can you possibly find the "pre-Christian" words of Jesus (by using various criteria, which they inconsistently applied, in my opinion)? how can you determine which words or stories could have survived the "oral transmission" phase of Christian history? and, among the many orally transmittable words and stories, which ones are probably "commonplace proverbs" that worked their way into Christian teaching in the early years of the religion?
Their findings are fascinating, and just as fascinating are the descriptions in the book of their disagreements, debates, and commitment to the voting process. Also fun is the translation itself. Some notable differences from the NRSV:
-Congratulations, you poor! {Blessed are the poor}
-In the beginning there was the divine word and wisdom {word; logos}
-they consistently use "trust" instead of "faith" or "believe," for example "Don't be afraid, just have trust" (Mark 5:36), or "I swear to you, even if you have trust no larger than a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move." (Matt 17:20)
As for March, a graphic novel about John Lewis, I'll describe that next week, after I've read Vol 2 and 3. Vol 1 was amazing! So cool!
Sunday, January 21, 2018
Week 3
The New Testament: A Historical Introduction to the Early Christian Writings - Bart Ehrman
I just barely made it this week! I finished this dude a few minutes ago. It's a textbook - you know, big pages, small type - but it reads well, straight-forward. I was anticipating more headwind. There's enough voice to sound personal, but not so much to sound conversational. Ehrman seems not only to love this subject but to love writing about it - for which I'm very thankful; there's no way I would have finished otherwise.
My dad suggested this as a starter, instead of Mack's Who Wrote the New Testament, which appears to be more of a thesis and less of an introduction to the field. I'd still like to read Who Wrote at some point, because I've heard that it's fun and that Mack is obsessed with "Q!" True?
I just barely made it this week! I finished this dude a few minutes ago. It's a textbook - you know, big pages, small type - but it reads well, straight-forward. I was anticipating more headwind. There's enough voice to sound personal, but not so much to sound conversational. Ehrman seems not only to love this subject but to love writing about it - for which I'm very thankful; there's no way I would have finished otherwise.
My dad suggested this as a starter, instead of Mack's Who Wrote the New Testament, which appears to be more of a thesis and less of an introduction to the field. I'd still like to read Who Wrote at some point, because I've heard that it's fun and that Mack is obsessed with "Q!" True?
- Doesn't Ehrman have a reputation for being in-your-face-anti-fundamentalist? Maybe that's more of a classroom personality, or perhaps that comes through more strongly in his other books. In any case I didn't pick-up on that in this textbook. Certainly he prods the exalted view of Scripture, and he picks on modern day "family values" and "end-times preachers" in a couple of places, but conservative protestants aren't his only targets. Here and there he flashes a sardonic smile at various writers and groups, ancient and modern. Only the whole, however, he writes respectfully of religious belief - Christian, Jewish, Greco-Roman - and over and over he stresses that he's not writing from a religious (or anti-religious) perspective; he's working as a historian, with specific historical methods, to study historical artifacts. He stresses that so so often...maybe he's responding to his reputation, or trying to rein-in his own antagonistic streak, or just asking students to chill-out when he says that Quirinius was not the governor of Syria when Jesus was born.
- This textbook has a good balance of show and tell. Ehrman is as concerned with demonstrating various methods for studying and reading ancient texts as he is with his explaining his and others' conclusions.
- He has these great little break-out text boxes, "Another Glimpse into the Past." I know the book is long enough for him already, he says so in the preface, but I wish he could do another set of break-out boxes, "The History of Interpretation," or "Ancient Methods of Interpretation," or "Early Christians Reading the Books of the New Testament," or something like that. We get little crumbs, like, he mentions that Marcion loved certain parts of Paul, the Gnostics enjoyed complicated allegorical interpretations, the authors of Matthew and Luke may have understood their common sources in different ways, John and Thomas may have punted away the apocalyptic sayings, pseudonymous authors re-created (or didn't) their forerunners, Polycarp quoted every new testament author in a single letter to Philippi (not really). I would have enjoyed more.
- Where's the chapter on the canonization process? The whole idea of the new testament? Again I think he just ran out of pages. Maybe just a quick chapter at the end? An appendix? He focuses on the creation and context of each book in the New Testament, and he teases us with clues about how they eventually ended up bound together, but that's all we get.
- He comments occasionally that the New Testament, as a unit, an entity, creates its own context, it's own pathways of understanding, it's own interpretive pressure. That's why it's important to take time to look at each book "on it's own terms," so to speak, as well as in broad, non-canonical contexts (e.g. Jewish history, or Greek literature, or Roman politics). I'd love to hear more about how the formation of the New Testament influenced the interpretation of its texts, and/or vice versa - how the interpretation of its texts influenced the formation of the New Testament.
- I've been thinking...Christians, conservative and liberal, maybe we're all missing out on the inspirational power of textual "variations" or "discrepancies." Like, here's an example I think about sometimes: in 1 Samuel, when Jesse presents his sons to Samuel, David is the 8th son, but in 1 Chronicles, David's genealogy lists him as the 7th son. A conservative might immediately look around for a reconciling explanation, and a liberal might immediately look for the different traditions informing Samuel and Chronicles. That's all cool, and I usually take the "liberal" route, but can't we just hang out and enjoy the variation, too? As a religious reader, as someone seeking inspiration from a sacred text, why can't I be inspired by the difference itself? What's the "spiritual meaning" of David, the 8th son, in the Samuel story? What's the "spiritual meaning" of David, the 7th son in the Chronicles genealogy? And what's the "spiritual meaning" of the variation between the two? Is that kind-of crazy?
- Anywho, this is a good read, for everyone, I think. Even if you already know you won't agree with most of his conclusions, you might enjoy the historical details and fascinating cultural back-story. This would be a perfect book to read in a month - there are 30 chapters, 10-20 pages each, one chapter a day. Peace!
Sunday, January 14, 2018
Week 2
Gospel Parallels - 3rd edition, ed. Burton Throckmorton, Jr.
The End of White World Supremacy: Four Speeches by Malcolm X - ed. with intro by Imam Benjamin Karim
The Yellow Birds - Kevin Powers (he's from Richmond!)
Where has the Gospel Parallels been all my life? What an awesome resource! Duh, Dave, it's been sitting on the shelf in your dad's office, your mom's bedroom, your granddad's back room, your brother and sister-in-law's front room, your cousin's closet, your auntie's attic. Like, uh, everyone in my family has this book; I've eyeballed it a million times. Why am I just now opening it up?
In church we tend to straw-man "Biblical Scholars" and "Scholars" in general. How many times have you heard a preacher say, "scholars say...", without any specific reference, and then proceed either to swat away the "scholarship" like a bad joke or to nail it to the cross as irrefutable? Usually it's the former. When we hear "scholars say," we edge up in our seat; our mouths start to water; we know some poor, little ivory-tower straw-person is about to get strewn about. I've played the "scholars say" rhetorical trick plenty of times myself. It's a required skill for all Baptists.
Gospel Parallels is a great counter to that tendency. I can look up a story or parable, and, wow, there next to it are the similar passages from the other gospels. Thanks, scholars! How convenient. And in the notes are references to other New Testament passages or non-canonical gospels. And if I'm really curious, also in the notes are variations between the codexes, papyri, versions, and whatnot. No one is trying to beat me over the head with a Greek dictionary, or lead me astray with "philosophy and empty deceit" (Col 2:8; oh yes, we have a long and glorious straw-man tradition).
There's something here for everyone! Or everyone in my head, at least. If I'm feeling like a scrupulous modern, I can comb and sift and strain for the authentic, original truth of Jesus. If I'm feeling like a centrifugal post-modern, I can revel in the variety of perspective and possibility. If I'm feeling like an earnest evangelical, I can thank God that all these people loved me enough to write down the story of Jesus.
Speaking of loving someone enough to tell them something...here comes Malcolm X! What a preacher-prophet! I didn't realize how evangelical and apocalyptic he was (I know very, very little about his life and work).
"They knew he meant what he said," writes Imam Karim in the introduction. "They" refers to the NYPD, with which Malcolm regularly interacted during the protests against the abuse of Hinton Johnson. But, the impression I get from reading this book is that "they" could probably refer to almost anybody that heard Malcolm X speak.
"They knew he meant what he said." He sounds like a true believer to me, and I'm just reading the transcripts of speeches. He sounds totally - mind, body, spirit - committed to the Truth as taught by Elijah Muhammad and the Nation of Islam. And yet his commitment to the Truth, "naked truth, undressed truth" he calls it, must have gone deeper even than that, because his preaching-prophecy continued to grow and develop even after he broke with the NOI. "Malcolm, always changing, always evolving toward some truth that was ultimately outside the boundaries of his life, of his body," writes Ta-Nehisi Coates in Between the World and Me. A beautiful paradox - unwavering commitment leads to change, growth, discovery.
This book is my first real exposure to Elijah Muhammad's mythology, anthropogeny, etc.. Did he really believe in the historicity of his version of creation? Regardless, NOI mythology (or as much as Malcolm relates in these speeches) seems designed to turn various WASP racial myths upside down. The story of the white race's creation - prophesied of old, replacing the lost 13th tribe, designed for evil and 6000 years of domination by Yacub - is eerily inverse to a pamphlet I once read that suggested (if I'm remembering correctly) the lost tribes of Israel became part of the Scythians; their descendants migrated west and settled in Great Britain; and their descendants immigrated to America and founded a Christian nation that could finally fulfill Israel's divinely ordained mission.
Amiri Baraka summarized Malcom's gospel message as "Self-determination, self-respect, self-defence." Malcolm says something similar about Elijah Muhammad's message to black people (that is, by his definition, all non-white people), "1) wake up, 2) clean up, and 3) stand up." As a white man, I need to hear that, too. Malcolm was happy and eager to talk to white folks, anyone that would listen, but he had a special message for whites, more like a John the Baptist message. He says, "White America, wake up and take heed, before it is too late!"
"But when he saw many white folks coming for baptism, he said to them, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do no presume to say to yourselves, 'We have George Washington and Thomas Jefferson as our ancestors;' for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children from the Founding Fathers. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire." (Matt 3:7-10)
Did Malcolm X and Franz Fanon ever get to hang out or read each other's work?
Speaking of authors getting to hang out...have Kevin Powers, author of The Yellow Birds, and Phil Klay, author of Redeployment, ever had the chance to hang out? I highly recommend both of those books, on their own and as a pair. They are both sharp, well-paced, gut-wrenching, first-person-perspective stories about American soldiers in the 21st century - before, during, and after combat deployments. They are both written by veterans of the second Iraq war. But they are very different stylistically.
Redeployment (it's been a while since I read it, so I may misremember some things) is a collection of short stories, all involving Marines but from a variety of perspectives and in a variety of settings. The stories are framed by relationships - person to person, person to society, society to society. The dialogue is amazing! That stuck with me. I might tag Redeployment as "social realism." The narrator, the other characters, the setting, the plot - they all weave together to create a world, and the world itself is what speaks.
The Yellow Birds is a novel, in the style of a memoir, heavy with reflection, perception, description. The narrator's voice is in-all, over-all, through-all. Would you label this as "modernism?" As I read I definitely had flashbacks to Let Us Now Praise Famous Men by James Agee and All The King's Men by Robert Penn Warren. I was constantly enchanted by the narrator's language, his similes especially, but I was also constantly impatient, frustrated...what happens next? Powers works with anticipation as much as suspense. The narrator, John, lets you know almost immediately that his buddy, Murph, dies, but it's not until the penultimate chapter that we hear how.
Ya know I'm not sure where the title, The Yellow Birds, comes from. There is a story in the book about Murph's dad bringing some canaries up from the mine and opening their cages, expecting them to fly away. Instead they just play around a bit and then come back to the cages. Are canaries yellow? I'll google it. Anyway, as always, I'd love any feedback you have. Thanks for taking the time to read all this! Peace and blessings. Hope I make it to week 4!
The End of White World Supremacy: Four Speeches by Malcolm X - ed. with intro by Imam Benjamin Karim
The Yellow Birds - Kevin Powers (he's from Richmond!)
Where has the Gospel Parallels been all my life? What an awesome resource! Duh, Dave, it's been sitting on the shelf in your dad's office, your mom's bedroom, your granddad's back room, your brother and sister-in-law's front room, your cousin's closet, your auntie's attic. Like, uh, everyone in my family has this book; I've eyeballed it a million times. Why am I just now opening it up?
In church we tend to straw-man "Biblical Scholars" and "Scholars" in general. How many times have you heard a preacher say, "scholars say...", without any specific reference, and then proceed either to swat away the "scholarship" like a bad joke or to nail it to the cross as irrefutable? Usually it's the former. When we hear "scholars say," we edge up in our seat; our mouths start to water; we know some poor, little ivory-tower straw-person is about to get strewn about. I've played the "scholars say" rhetorical trick plenty of times myself. It's a required skill for all Baptists.
Gospel Parallels is a great counter to that tendency. I can look up a story or parable, and, wow, there next to it are the similar passages from the other gospels. Thanks, scholars! How convenient. And in the notes are references to other New Testament passages or non-canonical gospels. And if I'm really curious, also in the notes are variations between the codexes, papyri, versions, and whatnot. No one is trying to beat me over the head with a Greek dictionary, or lead me astray with "philosophy and empty deceit" (Col 2:8; oh yes, we have a long and glorious straw-man tradition).
There's something here for everyone! Or everyone in my head, at least. If I'm feeling like a scrupulous modern, I can comb and sift and strain for the authentic, original truth of Jesus. If I'm feeling like a centrifugal post-modern, I can revel in the variety of perspective and possibility. If I'm feeling like an earnest evangelical, I can thank God that all these people loved me enough to write down the story of Jesus.
Speaking of loving someone enough to tell them something...here comes Malcolm X! What a preacher-prophet! I didn't realize how evangelical and apocalyptic he was (I know very, very little about his life and work).
"They knew he meant what he said," writes Imam Karim in the introduction. "They" refers to the NYPD, with which Malcolm regularly interacted during the protests against the abuse of Hinton Johnson. But, the impression I get from reading this book is that "they" could probably refer to almost anybody that heard Malcolm X speak.
"They knew he meant what he said." He sounds like a true believer to me, and I'm just reading the transcripts of speeches. He sounds totally - mind, body, spirit - committed to the Truth as taught by Elijah Muhammad and the Nation of Islam. And yet his commitment to the Truth, "naked truth, undressed truth" he calls it, must have gone deeper even than that, because his preaching-prophecy continued to grow and develop even after he broke with the NOI. "Malcolm, always changing, always evolving toward some truth that was ultimately outside the boundaries of his life, of his body," writes Ta-Nehisi Coates in Between the World and Me. A beautiful paradox - unwavering commitment leads to change, growth, discovery.
This book is my first real exposure to Elijah Muhammad's mythology, anthropogeny, etc.. Did he really believe in the historicity of his version of creation? Regardless, NOI mythology (or as much as Malcolm relates in these speeches) seems designed to turn various WASP racial myths upside down. The story of the white race's creation - prophesied of old, replacing the lost 13th tribe, designed for evil and 6000 years of domination by Yacub - is eerily inverse to a pamphlet I once read that suggested (if I'm remembering correctly) the lost tribes of Israel became part of the Scythians; their descendants migrated west and settled in Great Britain; and their descendants immigrated to America and founded a Christian nation that could finally fulfill Israel's divinely ordained mission.
Amiri Baraka summarized Malcom's gospel message as "Self-determination, self-respect, self-defence." Malcolm says something similar about Elijah Muhammad's message to black people (that is, by his definition, all non-white people), "1) wake up, 2) clean up, and 3) stand up." As a white man, I need to hear that, too. Malcolm was happy and eager to talk to white folks, anyone that would listen, but he had a special message for whites, more like a John the Baptist message. He says, "White America, wake up and take heed, before it is too late!"
"But when he saw many white folks coming for baptism, he said to them, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do no presume to say to yourselves, 'We have George Washington and Thomas Jefferson as our ancestors;' for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children from the Founding Fathers. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire." (Matt 3:7-10)
Did Malcolm X and Franz Fanon ever get to hang out or read each other's work?
Speaking of authors getting to hang out...have Kevin Powers, author of The Yellow Birds, and Phil Klay, author of Redeployment, ever had the chance to hang out? I highly recommend both of those books, on their own and as a pair. They are both sharp, well-paced, gut-wrenching, first-person-perspective stories about American soldiers in the 21st century - before, during, and after combat deployments. They are both written by veterans of the second Iraq war. But they are very different stylistically.
Redeployment (it's been a while since I read it, so I may misremember some things) is a collection of short stories, all involving Marines but from a variety of perspectives and in a variety of settings. The stories are framed by relationships - person to person, person to society, society to society. The dialogue is amazing! That stuck with me. I might tag Redeployment as "social realism." The narrator, the other characters, the setting, the plot - they all weave together to create a world, and the world itself is what speaks.
The Yellow Birds is a novel, in the style of a memoir, heavy with reflection, perception, description. The narrator's voice is in-all, over-all, through-all. Would you label this as "modernism?" As I read I definitely had flashbacks to Let Us Now Praise Famous Men by James Agee and All The King's Men by Robert Penn Warren. I was constantly enchanted by the narrator's language, his similes especially, but I was also constantly impatient, frustrated...what happens next? Powers works with anticipation as much as suspense. The narrator, John, lets you know almost immediately that his buddy, Murph, dies, but it's not until the penultimate chapter that we hear how.
Ya know I'm not sure where the title, The Yellow Birds, comes from. There is a story in the book about Murph's dad bringing some canaries up from the mine and opening their cages, expecting them to fly away. Instead they just play around a bit and then come back to the cages. Are canaries yellow? I'll google it. Anyway, as always, I'd love any feedback you have. Thanks for taking the time to read all this! Peace and blessings. Hope I make it to week 4!
Sunday, January 7, 2018
Week 1
Sticks and Stones: a study of American architecture and civilization - Lewis Mumford
Matthew, Mark, Luke, John (KJV Authorised)
God's Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible - Adam Nicolson
A couple years ago I got on an architecture kick, reading a sack of books on the subject, but I retained little to no info. When I try to reach back and grab the name for this column or the style of that arch, I just come up with handful of 'p' words...pillaster Palladian pediment stupa Pantheon pagoda step pyramid. If you asked me to describe a building, I would probably just end up spiting in your face. I'm a millennial version of Leonard Bast from Howards End, trying to "improve" myself by reading The Stones of Venice (haven't read it) and going to Beethoveen's Fifth (haven't been to it). What the heck, I'm having a good time; E.M. Forster and the Schlegel sisters can feel sorry for me all they want. If I had to choose a way to die, being crushed by a bookcase wouldn't be so bad (I guess he technically died of a heart attack).
Sticks and Stones is short but full. Broad opinions, bold connections, fun to read. "Such a book could have been written only by a young man," writes a 30-years-older Mumford in the preface to this edition. I especially enjoyed chapter one, "The Medieval Tradition," and six, "The Imperial Facade."
In "The Medieval Tradition" he describes early New England architecture and communal organization as a continuation of the medieval European village: a few communal structures in the center or town, houses radiating outward along paths or water courses, buildings spread out enough for family gardens but close enough together for mutual aid and defense, the town perhaps surrounded by a stockade. While the "enclosure" of public lands and urbanization transformed the face of England, the New England colonies kept Old England alive, at least in architecture and village organization, for another hundred years.
"The Imperial Facade" is Mumford's sharpest and most intense chapter, covering the last decade of the 19th century and first of the 20th. "The twenty years between 1890 and 1910 saw the complete rehabilitation of the Roman mode, as the very cloak and costume of the imperial enterprise." Think of the White City at the World's Columbian Exposition in 1893 Chicago, the Lincoln Memorial, our very own Robert E. Lee statue and the development of "Monument Avenue," giant railroad terminals and museums with giant columns, arches, and domes. Listen to this:
"The Roman development of New York, Chicago, Washington, and the lesser metropolises, had an important effect upon the homes of the people. Historically, the imperial monument and the slum-tenement go hand in hand. The same process that creates an unearned increment for the landlords who posses favored sites, contributes a generous quota - which might be called the unearned excrement - of depression, overcrowding, and bad living, in the dormitory districts of the city. This had happened in imperial Rome; it had happened again in Paris under Napoleon III...,and it happened once again in our American cities."
Wow!
Why did I choose the KJV to read the Gospels? Not sure, but I'm glad I did. I don't usually read the KJV, and I didn't grow up hearing that version in church. The syntax and rhythm 1) provide an enchanting reading pace, 2) create a consistent tone, even between John and the synoptic gospels, and 3) sound fresh because they're old (or just because they're well done?) -- they helped me to sit-up and listen.
I marked down some particularly charming word uses: he was an hungred; he sat at meat; when ye come into an house, salute it; sore and exceeding as flat adverbs - sore afraid and exceeding glad; dureth (endure); straw (scatter); cast the same in his teeth; winebibber; wist (know); list (desire); desireth (ask); halt (lame); trow (think); penury (poverty); stricken in years (old); quicken (enliven). It is the spirit that quickeneth...
I am also glad I read the gospels straight through. (I don't usually read straight through any book of the Bible; I don't really have any systematic Bible reading practice) It was overwhelming and humbling. Usually I read a short section (a chapter or less) for personal devotion or group study, and I usually end up feeling "closer" to Jesus in the process. Swallowing the gospels whole had the opposite effect. I am so so so far away from living like Jesus lived! Culturally of course, but also materially, morally, and spiritually. How can I honestly claim to be his disciple?
I have also wondered over the years if anyone ever spoke KJV English. Well, it's yes and no. God's Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible weaves together the history of late 16th c. to early 17th c. England, personal stories of King James and the political and religious figures involved in the new version, and Nicolson's own literary love of the KJV vis-a-vis other English versions. There's plenty of drama in this book, believe it or not. The atmosphere of intellectual passion and religious-political soap opera reminds me of scenes from Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose -- if you like that book you would probably like God's Secretaries, too.
The KJV was written primarily to be read out loud in church, so in that sense KJV English has been spoken since its creation. But it wasn't written in the daily language of the "man on the street;" it was high-fallutin, written in the language of "majesty," "far more regal than demotic." Neither was it the daily language of the man in the throne; it was deliberately "archaic," sounding old-timey even back in 1607. No one ever spoke KJV English in day-to-day life. It is special occasion language. Religious performance language. "Ceremonial," "musical," "rich" are words Nicolson uses to describe the style.
To Nicolson, the KJV committee struck the balance between clarity and mystery, between earthly and heavenly, between faithfulness to the meaning of the Greek and Hebrew texts and faithfulness to the poetic possibilities of English. Nicolson argues that the KJV has an "aural fluency" unmatched by any English version before or since.
The only English he can positively compare it to is that of Shakespeare's "great tragedies." He describes the KJV and King Lear as "mirror-twins." "...the King James Bible enshrines what it understands as the guarantee of all meaning; the rhetoric of King Lear breaks and shivers into multi-faceted shards of songs, madness, grandeur, argument, pathos; the [KJV] masks its immensely various sources under one certain, all-over musical sonority; everything in Lear falls apart; everything in the [KJV] pulls together; one is a nightmare of dissolution, the other a dream of wholeness."
----------
As a Christian reading the Bible, I'm obsessed with finding the true meaning of a teaching or passage. I want to shuck the husk of style and vocabulary and eat the nut of truth. I want to break open the linguistic shell and possess the "inner" pearl of wisdom. I often think of reading like Miles Smith, one of the Translators and author of the preface to the KJV, thought of translating: "Translation it is that openeth the window, to let in the light; that breaketh the shell, that we may eat the kernel; that putteth aside the curtain that we may look into the most Holy place; that removeth the cover of the well, that we may come by the water" (Nicolson 144).
Reading a fashion-forward version of the Bible like the KJV or The Message reminds me that Scripture, or any text, isn't a transparent pane of glass through which I view meaning. Scripture is words, matter, sound in my ear, ink on paper, gears turning in my head. Scripture is something I must interact with, like a building. Glass windows, yes, but also stone foundation, brick walls, wooden doors, maybe even a pediment over a portico where I see pillasters flanking the portal (throw me a bone Leonard Bast!). Regardless of the degree of inspiration we ascribe to it's authors, we all know that the Bible was written, built, word by word, edit by edit, year by year, piece by piece. It has style, form, meaning, all joined and fastened (or at times, unhinged and loose) into a marvelous structure. Texts are a type of building and buildings are a type of text. Reading the KJV reminded me of that. "It is easy to see [the KJV] as England's equivalent of the great baroque cathedral it never built, an enormous and magnificent verbal artifice..." (Nicolson 70).
Matthew, Mark, Luke, John (KJV Authorised)
God's Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible - Adam Nicolson
A couple years ago I got on an architecture kick, reading a sack of books on the subject, but I retained little to no info. When I try to reach back and grab the name for this column or the style of that arch, I just come up with handful of 'p' words...pillaster Palladian pediment stupa Pantheon pagoda step pyramid. If you asked me to describe a building, I would probably just end up spiting in your face. I'm a millennial version of Leonard Bast from Howards End, trying to "improve" myself by reading The Stones of Venice (haven't read it) and going to Beethoveen's Fifth (haven't been to it). What the heck, I'm having a good time; E.M. Forster and the Schlegel sisters can feel sorry for me all they want. If I had to choose a way to die, being crushed by a bookcase wouldn't be so bad (I guess he technically died of a heart attack).
Sticks and Stones is short but full. Broad opinions, bold connections, fun to read. "Such a book could have been written only by a young man," writes a 30-years-older Mumford in the preface to this edition. I especially enjoyed chapter one, "The Medieval Tradition," and six, "The Imperial Facade."
In "The Medieval Tradition" he describes early New England architecture and communal organization as a continuation of the medieval European village: a few communal structures in the center or town, houses radiating outward along paths or water courses, buildings spread out enough for family gardens but close enough together for mutual aid and defense, the town perhaps surrounded by a stockade. While the "enclosure" of public lands and urbanization transformed the face of England, the New England colonies kept Old England alive, at least in architecture and village organization, for another hundred years.
"The Imperial Facade" is Mumford's sharpest and most intense chapter, covering the last decade of the 19th century and first of the 20th. "The twenty years between 1890 and 1910 saw the complete rehabilitation of the Roman mode, as the very cloak and costume of the imperial enterprise." Think of the White City at the World's Columbian Exposition in 1893 Chicago, the Lincoln Memorial, our very own Robert E. Lee statue and the development of "Monument Avenue," giant railroad terminals and museums with giant columns, arches, and domes. Listen to this:
"The Roman development of New York, Chicago, Washington, and the lesser metropolises, had an important effect upon the homes of the people. Historically, the imperial monument and the slum-tenement go hand in hand. The same process that creates an unearned increment for the landlords who posses favored sites, contributes a generous quota - which might be called the unearned excrement - of depression, overcrowding, and bad living, in the dormitory districts of the city. This had happened in imperial Rome; it had happened again in Paris under Napoleon III...,and it happened once again in our American cities."
Wow!
Why did I choose the KJV to read the Gospels? Not sure, but I'm glad I did. I don't usually read the KJV, and I didn't grow up hearing that version in church. The syntax and rhythm 1) provide an enchanting reading pace, 2) create a consistent tone, even between John and the synoptic gospels, and 3) sound fresh because they're old (or just because they're well done?) -- they helped me to sit-up and listen.
I marked down some particularly charming word uses: he was an hungred; he sat at meat; when ye come into an house, salute it; sore and exceeding as flat adverbs - sore afraid and exceeding glad; dureth (endure); straw (scatter); cast the same in his teeth; winebibber; wist (know); list (desire); desireth (ask); halt (lame); trow (think); penury (poverty); stricken in years (old); quicken (enliven). It is the spirit that quickeneth...
I am also glad I read the gospels straight through. (I don't usually read straight through any book of the Bible; I don't really have any systematic Bible reading practice) It was overwhelming and humbling. Usually I read a short section (a chapter or less) for personal devotion or group study, and I usually end up feeling "closer" to Jesus in the process. Swallowing the gospels whole had the opposite effect. I am so so so far away from living like Jesus lived! Culturally of course, but also materially, morally, and spiritually. How can I honestly claim to be his disciple?
I have also wondered over the years if anyone ever spoke KJV English. Well, it's yes and no. God's Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible weaves together the history of late 16th c. to early 17th c. England, personal stories of King James and the political and religious figures involved in the new version, and Nicolson's own literary love of the KJV vis-a-vis other English versions. There's plenty of drama in this book, believe it or not. The atmosphere of intellectual passion and religious-political soap opera reminds me of scenes from Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose -- if you like that book you would probably like God's Secretaries, too.
The KJV was written primarily to be read out loud in church, so in that sense KJV English has been spoken since its creation. But it wasn't written in the daily language of the "man on the street;" it was high-fallutin, written in the language of "majesty," "far more regal than demotic." Neither was it the daily language of the man in the throne; it was deliberately "archaic," sounding old-timey even back in 1607. No one ever spoke KJV English in day-to-day life. It is special occasion language. Religious performance language. "Ceremonial," "musical," "rich" are words Nicolson uses to describe the style.
To Nicolson, the KJV committee struck the balance between clarity and mystery, between earthly and heavenly, between faithfulness to the meaning of the Greek and Hebrew texts and faithfulness to the poetic possibilities of English. Nicolson argues that the KJV has an "aural fluency" unmatched by any English version before or since.
The only English he can positively compare it to is that of Shakespeare's "great tragedies." He describes the KJV and King Lear as "mirror-twins." "...the King James Bible enshrines what it understands as the guarantee of all meaning; the rhetoric of King Lear breaks and shivers into multi-faceted shards of songs, madness, grandeur, argument, pathos; the [KJV] masks its immensely various sources under one certain, all-over musical sonority; everything in Lear falls apart; everything in the [KJV] pulls together; one is a nightmare of dissolution, the other a dream of wholeness."
----------
As a Christian reading the Bible, I'm obsessed with finding the true meaning of a teaching or passage. I want to shuck the husk of style and vocabulary and eat the nut of truth. I want to break open the linguistic shell and possess the "inner" pearl of wisdom. I often think of reading like Miles Smith, one of the Translators and author of the preface to the KJV, thought of translating: "Translation it is that openeth the window, to let in the light; that breaketh the shell, that we may eat the kernel; that putteth aside the curtain that we may look into the most Holy place; that removeth the cover of the well, that we may come by the water" (Nicolson 144).
Reading a fashion-forward version of the Bible like the KJV or The Message reminds me that Scripture, or any text, isn't a transparent pane of glass through which I view meaning. Scripture is words, matter, sound in my ear, ink on paper, gears turning in my head. Scripture is something I must interact with, like a building. Glass windows, yes, but also stone foundation, brick walls, wooden doors, maybe even a pediment over a portico where I see pillasters flanking the portal (throw me a bone Leonard Bast!). Regardless of the degree of inspiration we ascribe to it's authors, we all know that the Bible was written, built, word by word, edit by edit, year by year, piece by piece. It has style, form, meaning, all joined and fastened (or at times, unhinged and loose) into a marvelous structure. Texts are a type of building and buildings are a type of text. Reading the KJV reminded me of that. "It is easy to see [the KJV] as England's equivalent of the great baroque cathedral it never built, an enormous and magnificent verbal artifice..." (Nicolson 70).
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