Monday, December 31, 2012
Monday, December 24, 2012
Christmas Readings from the Old and New Testaments
This will most likely be my last post for 2012, and since it is Christmas Eve, I want to share some Christmas related readings from the Old and New Testament. I want to share a reading from Micah 5 and from John 1 from the Revised Standard Version Bible. I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year as well. Thanks for reading and spread the word about this blog if you enjoy reading it, thanks! Below are the two readings:
Micah 5:2-5
"[2] But you, O Bethlehem Eph'rathah,
who are little to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to be ruler in Israel,
whose origin is from of old,
from ancient days.
[3] Therefore he shall give them up until the time
when she who is in travail has brought forth;
then the rest of his brethren shall return
to the people of Israel.
[4] And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the LORD,
in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God.
And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great
to the ends of the earth.
[5] And this shall be peace..."
John 1:1-14
"[1] In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
[2] He was in the beginning with God;
[3] all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made.
[4] In him was life, and the life was the light of men.
[5] The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
[6] There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.
[7] He came for testimony, to bear witness to the light, that all might believe through him.
[8] He was not the light, but came to bear witness to the light.
[9] The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world.
[10] He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world knew him not.
[11] He came to his own home, and his own people received him not.
[12] But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God;
[13] who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.
[14] And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; we have beheld his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father."
Reference:
RSV Bible (http://quod.lib.umich.edu/r/rsv/).
Micah 5:2-5
"[2] But you, O Bethlehem Eph'rathah,
who are little to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to be ruler in Israel,
whose origin is from of old,
from ancient days.
[3] Therefore he shall give them up until the time
when she who is in travail has brought forth;
then the rest of his brethren shall return
to the people of Israel.
[4] And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the LORD,
in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God.
And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great
to the ends of the earth.
[5] And this shall be peace..."
John 1:1-14
"[1] In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
[2] He was in the beginning with God;
[3] all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made.
[4] In him was life, and the life was the light of men.
[5] The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
[6] There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.
[7] He came for testimony, to bear witness to the light, that all might believe through him.
[8] He was not the light, but came to bear witness to the light.
[9] The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world.
[10] He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world knew him not.
[11] He came to his own home, and his own people received him not.
[12] But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God;
[13] who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.
[14] And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; we have beheld his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father."
Reference:
RSV Bible (http://quod.lib.umich.edu/r/rsv/).
Download Readings and Homily from Church of Our Saviour
Now you can download recordings from the “Readings and Homily" of the Church of Our Saviour in NYC. I highly recommend that you download an MP3 today. I always enjoy hearing Fr. Rutler and others! Below is the link you need to follow:
http://www.oursaviournyc.org/multimedia/audio/recordings-from-2012
http://www.oursaviournyc.org/multimedia/audio/recordings-from-2012
Thursday, December 6, 2012
What Is This Word? Sermon at the Eucharist on Christmas Morning 2005 by N. T. Wright
What Is This Word?
John 1.1–14
Sermon at the Eucharist on Christmas Morning 2005
in the Cathedral Church of Christ, Blessed Mary the Virgin, and St Cuthbert of Durham
the Bishop of Durham, Dr N. T. Wright
One of the greatest journalists of the last generation, the late Bernard Levin, described how, when he was a small boy, a great celebrity came to visit his school. The headmaster, thinking perhaps to impress, called the young Levin to the platform in front of the whole school. The celebrity, thinking perhaps to be kind, asked the little boy what he’d had for breakfast.
That was easy, or so it seemed. ‘Matzobrei’, replied Levin. It’s a typical central European Jewish dish, made of egg fried with matzo wafers, brown sugar and cinnamon; Levin’s immigrant mother had continued to make it even after years of living in London. It was, to him, a perfectly ordinary word for a perfectly ordinary meal.
The celebrity, ignorant of such cuisine, thinks he must have misheard; he asks the question again. Young Bernard, puzzled now and anxious, gives the same answer. The celebrity looks concerned, and glances at the headmaster. What is this word he’s saying? The headmaster, adopting a there-there-little-man tone, asks him once more what he had for breakfast. Now dismayed, not knowing what he’s done wrong, and wanting to burst into tears, the boy says once more the only thing he can say, since it’s the truth: ‘Matzobrei’. An exchange of strange glances on the platform, and the now terrified little boy is sent back to his place. The incident is never referred to again, but it stays in his memory as a horrible ordeal.
The Jewish word spoken to an incomprehending world; the child’s word spoken to incomprehending adults; the word for food of which the others know nothing . . . it all feels very Johannine. What is this Word? ‘In the beginning was the Word . . . and the Word was made flesh.’ We are so used to it, to the great cadences, the solemn but glad message of the incarnation; and we risk skipping over the incomprehensibility, the oddness, the almost embarrassing strangeness, of the Word. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness didn’t comprehend it; the world was made through him but the world didn’t know him; he came to his own, and his own didn’t receive him. John is saying two things simultaneously in his Prologue (well, two hundred actually, but let’s concentrate on two): first, that the incarnation of the eternal Word is the event for which the whole creation has been on tiptoe all along; second, that the whole creation, and even the carefully prepared people of God themselves, are quite unready for this event. Jew and Gentile alike, hearing this strange Word, are casting anxious glances at one another, like the celebrity and the headmaster faced with a little boy telling the truth in a language they don’t understand.
That is the puzzle of Christmas. And, to get to its heart, see how it works out in the rest of John’s gospel. John’s Prologue is designed to stay in the mind and heart throughout the subsequent story. Never again is Jesus himself referred to as the Word; but we are meant to look at each scene, from the call of the first disciples and the changing of water into wine right through to the confrontation with Pilate and the crucifixion and resurrection, and think to ourselves, this is what it looks like when the Word becomes flesh. Or, if you like, look at this man of flesh and learn to see the living God. But watch what happens as it all plays out. He comes to his own and his own don’t receive him. The light shines in the darkness, and though the darkness can’t overcome it it has a jolly good try. He speaks the truth, the plain and simple words, like the little boy saying what he had for breakfast, and Caiaphas and Pilate, incomprehending, can’t decide whether he’s mad or wicked or both, and send him off to his fate.
But, though Jesus is never again referred to as the Word of God, we find the theme transposed, with endless variations. The Living Word speaks living words, and the reaction is the same. ‘This is a hard word,’ say his followers when he tells them that he is the bread come down from heaven (6.60). ‘What is this word?’, asks the puzzled crowd in Jerusalem (7.36). ‘My word finds no place in you,’ says Jesus, ‘because you can’t hear it’ (8.37, 43). ‘The word I spoke will be their judge on the last day’, he insists (12.48) as the crowds reject him and he knows his hour has come. When Pilate hears the word, says John, he is the more afraid, since the word in question is Jesus’ reported claim to be the Son of God (19.8). Unless we recognise this strange, dark strand running through the gospel we will domesticate John’s masterpiece (just as we’re always in danger of domesticating Christmas), and think it’s only about comfort and joy, not also about incomprehension and rejection and darkness and denial and stopping the ears and judgment. Christmas is not about the living God coming to tell us everything’s all right. John’s gospel isn’t about Jesus speaking the truth and everyone saying ‘Of course! Why didn’t we realise it before?’ It is about God shining his clear, bright torch into the darkness of our world, our lives, our hearts, our imaginations, and the darkness not comprehending it. It’s about God, God-as-a-little-child, speaking the word of truth, and nobody knowing what he’s talking about.
There may be somebody here this morning who is aware of that puzzlement, that incomprehension, that sense of a word being spoken which seems as though it ought to mean something but which remains opaque to you. If that’s where you are, the good news is that along with this theme of incomprehension and rejection there goes the parallel theme of people hearing and receiving Jesus’ words, believing them and discovering, as he says, that they are spirit and life (6.63), breathing into the dry, dead fabric of our being and producing new life, new birth, new creation. ‘As many as received him, to them he gave the right to become God’s children, who were born not of human will or flesh, but of God’. ‘If you abide in my words, you will know the truth and the truth shall set you free’ (8.31f.). ‘If anyone keeps my words, that person will never see death’ (8.51). ‘You are already made clean by the word which I have spoken to you’ (15.3). Don’t imagine that the world divides naturally into those who can understand what Jesus is saying that those who can’t. By ourselves, we none of us can. Jesus is born into a world where everyone is deaf and blind to him and what he’s saying; but some, in fear and trembling, allow his words to challenge, rescue, heal and transform them. That is what’s on offer at Christmas; not a better focussed religion for those who already like that sort of thing, but a Word which is incomprehensible in our language but which, when we learn to hear, understand and believe it, will transform our whole selves with its judgment and mercy.
Out of the thousand things which follow directly from this reading of John, I choose three as particularly urgent.
First, John’s view of the incarnation, of the Word becoming flesh, strikes at the very root of that liberal denial which characterised mainstream theology thirty years ago and whose long-term effects are with us still. I grew up hearing lectures and sermons which declared that the idea of God becoming human was a category mistake. No human being could actually be divine; Jesus must therefore have been simply a human being, albeit no doubt (the wonderful patronizing pat on the head of the headmaster to the little boy) a very brilliant one. Phew; that’s all right then; he points to God but he isn’t actually God. And a generation later, but growing straight out of that school of thought, I have had a clergyman writing to me this week to say that the church doesn’t know anything for certain, so what’s all the fuss about? Remove the enfleshed and speaking Word from the centre of your theology, and gradually the whole thing will unravel until all you’re left with is the theological equivalent of the grin on the Cheshire Cat, a relativism whose only moral principle is that there are no moral principles; no words of judgment because nothing is really wrong except saying that things are wrong, no words of mercy because, if you’re all right as you are, you don’t need mercy, merely ‘affirmation’.
That’s where we are right now; and John’s Christmas message issues a sharp and timely reminder to re-learn the difference between mercy and affirmation, between a Jesus who both embodies and speaks God’s word of judgment and grace and a home-made Jesus (a Da Vinci Code Jesus, if you like) who gives us good advice about discovering who we really are. No wonder John’s gospel has been so unfashionable in many circles. There is a fashion in some quarters for speaking about a ‘theology of incarnation’ and meaning that our task is to discern what God is doing in the world and do it with him. But that is only half the truth, and the wrong half to start with. John’s theology of the incarnation is about God’s word coming as light into darkness, as a hammer that breaks the rock into pieces, as the fresh word of judgment and mercy. You might as well say that an incarnational missiology is all about discovering what God is saying No to today, and finding out how to say it with him. That was the lesson Barth and Bonhoeffer had to teach in Germany in the 1930s, and it’s all too relevant as today’s world becomes simultaneously, and at the same points, more liberal and more totalitarian. This Christmas, let’s get real, let’s get Johannine, and let’s listen again to the strange words spoken by the Word made flesh.
Second, John’s Prologue by its very structure reaffirms the order of creation at the point where it is being challenged today. John is consciously echoing the first chapter of Genesis: In the beginning God made heaven and earth; in the beginning was the Word. When the Word becomes flesh, heaven and earth are joined together at last, as God always intended. But the creation story which begins with the bipolarity of heaven and earth reaches its climax in in the bipolarity of male and female; and when heaven and earth are joined together in Jesus Christ, the glorious intention for the whole creation is unveiled, reaffirming the creation of male and female in God’s image. There is something about the enfleshment of the Word, the point in John 1 which stands in parallel to Genesis 1.26–8, which speaks of creation fulfilled; and in that other great Johannine writing, the Book of Revelation, we see what’s going on: Jesus Christ has come as the Bridegroom, the one for whom the Bride has been waiting.
Allow that insight to work its way out. Not for nothing does Jesus’ first ‘sign’ transform a wedding from disaster to triumph. Not for nothing do we find a man and a woman at the foot of the cross. The same incipient gnosticism which says that true religion is about ‘discovering who we really are’ is all too ready to say that ‘who we really are’ may have nothing much to do with the way we have been physically created as male or female. Christian ethics, you see, is not about stating, or for that matter bending, a few somewhat arbitrary rules. It is about the redemption of God’s good world, his wonderful creation, so that it can be the glorious thing it was made to be. This word is strange, even incomprehensible, in today’s culture; but if you have ears, then hear it.
Third, and finally, we return to the meal, the food whose very name is strange, forbidding, even incomprehensible to those outside, but the most natural thing to those who know it. The little child comes out to the front this morning, and speaks to us of the food which he offers us: himself, his own body and blood. It is a hard saying, and those of us who know it well may need to remind ourselves just how hard it is, lest we be dulled by familiarity into supposing that it’s easy and undemanding. It isn’t. It is the word which judges the world and saves the world, the word now turned into flesh, into matzo, passover bread, the bread which is the flesh of the Christchild, given for the life of the world because this flesh is the place where the living Word of God has come to dwell. Listen, this morning, for the incomprehensible word the Child speaks to you. Don’t patronize it; don’t reject it; don’t sentimentalize it; learn the language within which it makes sense. And come to the table to enjoy the breakfast, the breakfast which is himself, the Word made flesh, the life which is our life, our light, our glory.
Source:
http://ntwrightpage.com/sermons/Christmas05.htm
John 1.1–14
Sermon at the Eucharist on Christmas Morning 2005
in the Cathedral Church of Christ, Blessed Mary the Virgin, and St Cuthbert of Durham
the Bishop of Durham, Dr N. T. Wright
One of the greatest journalists of the last generation, the late Bernard Levin, described how, when he was a small boy, a great celebrity came to visit his school. The headmaster, thinking perhaps to impress, called the young Levin to the platform in front of the whole school. The celebrity, thinking perhaps to be kind, asked the little boy what he’d had for breakfast.
That was easy, or so it seemed. ‘Matzobrei’, replied Levin. It’s a typical central European Jewish dish, made of egg fried with matzo wafers, brown sugar and cinnamon; Levin’s immigrant mother had continued to make it even after years of living in London. It was, to him, a perfectly ordinary word for a perfectly ordinary meal.
The celebrity, ignorant of such cuisine, thinks he must have misheard; he asks the question again. Young Bernard, puzzled now and anxious, gives the same answer. The celebrity looks concerned, and glances at the headmaster. What is this word he’s saying? The headmaster, adopting a there-there-little-man tone, asks him once more what he had for breakfast. Now dismayed, not knowing what he’s done wrong, and wanting to burst into tears, the boy says once more the only thing he can say, since it’s the truth: ‘Matzobrei’. An exchange of strange glances on the platform, and the now terrified little boy is sent back to his place. The incident is never referred to again, but it stays in his memory as a horrible ordeal.
The Jewish word spoken to an incomprehending world; the child’s word spoken to incomprehending adults; the word for food of which the others know nothing . . . it all feels very Johannine. What is this Word? ‘In the beginning was the Word . . . and the Word was made flesh.’ We are so used to it, to the great cadences, the solemn but glad message of the incarnation; and we risk skipping over the incomprehensibility, the oddness, the almost embarrassing strangeness, of the Word. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness didn’t comprehend it; the world was made through him but the world didn’t know him; he came to his own, and his own didn’t receive him. John is saying two things simultaneously in his Prologue (well, two hundred actually, but let’s concentrate on two): first, that the incarnation of the eternal Word is the event for which the whole creation has been on tiptoe all along; second, that the whole creation, and even the carefully prepared people of God themselves, are quite unready for this event. Jew and Gentile alike, hearing this strange Word, are casting anxious glances at one another, like the celebrity and the headmaster faced with a little boy telling the truth in a language they don’t understand.
That is the puzzle of Christmas. And, to get to its heart, see how it works out in the rest of John’s gospel. John’s Prologue is designed to stay in the mind and heart throughout the subsequent story. Never again is Jesus himself referred to as the Word; but we are meant to look at each scene, from the call of the first disciples and the changing of water into wine right through to the confrontation with Pilate and the crucifixion and resurrection, and think to ourselves, this is what it looks like when the Word becomes flesh. Or, if you like, look at this man of flesh and learn to see the living God. But watch what happens as it all plays out. He comes to his own and his own don’t receive him. The light shines in the darkness, and though the darkness can’t overcome it it has a jolly good try. He speaks the truth, the plain and simple words, like the little boy saying what he had for breakfast, and Caiaphas and Pilate, incomprehending, can’t decide whether he’s mad or wicked or both, and send him off to his fate.
But, though Jesus is never again referred to as the Word of God, we find the theme transposed, with endless variations. The Living Word speaks living words, and the reaction is the same. ‘This is a hard word,’ say his followers when he tells them that he is the bread come down from heaven (6.60). ‘What is this word?’, asks the puzzled crowd in Jerusalem (7.36). ‘My word finds no place in you,’ says Jesus, ‘because you can’t hear it’ (8.37, 43). ‘The word I spoke will be their judge on the last day’, he insists (12.48) as the crowds reject him and he knows his hour has come. When Pilate hears the word, says John, he is the more afraid, since the word in question is Jesus’ reported claim to be the Son of God (19.8). Unless we recognise this strange, dark strand running through the gospel we will domesticate John’s masterpiece (just as we’re always in danger of domesticating Christmas), and think it’s only about comfort and joy, not also about incomprehension and rejection and darkness and denial and stopping the ears and judgment. Christmas is not about the living God coming to tell us everything’s all right. John’s gospel isn’t about Jesus speaking the truth and everyone saying ‘Of course! Why didn’t we realise it before?’ It is about God shining his clear, bright torch into the darkness of our world, our lives, our hearts, our imaginations, and the darkness not comprehending it. It’s about God, God-as-a-little-child, speaking the word of truth, and nobody knowing what he’s talking about.
There may be somebody here this morning who is aware of that puzzlement, that incomprehension, that sense of a word being spoken which seems as though it ought to mean something but which remains opaque to you. If that’s where you are, the good news is that along with this theme of incomprehension and rejection there goes the parallel theme of people hearing and receiving Jesus’ words, believing them and discovering, as he says, that they are spirit and life (6.63), breathing into the dry, dead fabric of our being and producing new life, new birth, new creation. ‘As many as received him, to them he gave the right to become God’s children, who were born not of human will or flesh, but of God’. ‘If you abide in my words, you will know the truth and the truth shall set you free’ (8.31f.). ‘If anyone keeps my words, that person will never see death’ (8.51). ‘You are already made clean by the word which I have spoken to you’ (15.3). Don’t imagine that the world divides naturally into those who can understand what Jesus is saying that those who can’t. By ourselves, we none of us can. Jesus is born into a world where everyone is deaf and blind to him and what he’s saying; but some, in fear and trembling, allow his words to challenge, rescue, heal and transform them. That is what’s on offer at Christmas; not a better focussed religion for those who already like that sort of thing, but a Word which is incomprehensible in our language but which, when we learn to hear, understand and believe it, will transform our whole selves with its judgment and mercy.
Out of the thousand things which follow directly from this reading of John, I choose three as particularly urgent.
First, John’s view of the incarnation, of the Word becoming flesh, strikes at the very root of that liberal denial which characterised mainstream theology thirty years ago and whose long-term effects are with us still. I grew up hearing lectures and sermons which declared that the idea of God becoming human was a category mistake. No human being could actually be divine; Jesus must therefore have been simply a human being, albeit no doubt (the wonderful patronizing pat on the head of the headmaster to the little boy) a very brilliant one. Phew; that’s all right then; he points to God but he isn’t actually God. And a generation later, but growing straight out of that school of thought, I have had a clergyman writing to me this week to say that the church doesn’t know anything for certain, so what’s all the fuss about? Remove the enfleshed and speaking Word from the centre of your theology, and gradually the whole thing will unravel until all you’re left with is the theological equivalent of the grin on the Cheshire Cat, a relativism whose only moral principle is that there are no moral principles; no words of judgment because nothing is really wrong except saying that things are wrong, no words of mercy because, if you’re all right as you are, you don’t need mercy, merely ‘affirmation’.
That’s where we are right now; and John’s Christmas message issues a sharp and timely reminder to re-learn the difference between mercy and affirmation, between a Jesus who both embodies and speaks God’s word of judgment and grace and a home-made Jesus (a Da Vinci Code Jesus, if you like) who gives us good advice about discovering who we really are. No wonder John’s gospel has been so unfashionable in many circles. There is a fashion in some quarters for speaking about a ‘theology of incarnation’ and meaning that our task is to discern what God is doing in the world and do it with him. But that is only half the truth, and the wrong half to start with. John’s theology of the incarnation is about God’s word coming as light into darkness, as a hammer that breaks the rock into pieces, as the fresh word of judgment and mercy. You might as well say that an incarnational missiology is all about discovering what God is saying No to today, and finding out how to say it with him. That was the lesson Barth and Bonhoeffer had to teach in Germany in the 1930s, and it’s all too relevant as today’s world becomes simultaneously, and at the same points, more liberal and more totalitarian. This Christmas, let’s get real, let’s get Johannine, and let’s listen again to the strange words spoken by the Word made flesh.
Second, John’s Prologue by its very structure reaffirms the order of creation at the point where it is being challenged today. John is consciously echoing the first chapter of Genesis: In the beginning God made heaven and earth; in the beginning was the Word. When the Word becomes flesh, heaven and earth are joined together at last, as God always intended. But the creation story which begins with the bipolarity of heaven and earth reaches its climax in in the bipolarity of male and female; and when heaven and earth are joined together in Jesus Christ, the glorious intention for the whole creation is unveiled, reaffirming the creation of male and female in God’s image. There is something about the enfleshment of the Word, the point in John 1 which stands in parallel to Genesis 1.26–8, which speaks of creation fulfilled; and in that other great Johannine writing, the Book of Revelation, we see what’s going on: Jesus Christ has come as the Bridegroom, the one for whom the Bride has been waiting.
Allow that insight to work its way out. Not for nothing does Jesus’ first ‘sign’ transform a wedding from disaster to triumph. Not for nothing do we find a man and a woman at the foot of the cross. The same incipient gnosticism which says that true religion is about ‘discovering who we really are’ is all too ready to say that ‘who we really are’ may have nothing much to do with the way we have been physically created as male or female. Christian ethics, you see, is not about stating, or for that matter bending, a few somewhat arbitrary rules. It is about the redemption of God’s good world, his wonderful creation, so that it can be the glorious thing it was made to be. This word is strange, even incomprehensible, in today’s culture; but if you have ears, then hear it.
Third, and finally, we return to the meal, the food whose very name is strange, forbidding, even incomprehensible to those outside, but the most natural thing to those who know it. The little child comes out to the front this morning, and speaks to us of the food which he offers us: himself, his own body and blood. It is a hard saying, and those of us who know it well may need to remind ourselves just how hard it is, lest we be dulled by familiarity into supposing that it’s easy and undemanding. It isn’t. It is the word which judges the world and saves the world, the word now turned into flesh, into matzo, passover bread, the bread which is the flesh of the Christchild, given for the life of the world because this flesh is the place where the living Word of God has come to dwell. Listen, this morning, for the incomprehensible word the Child speaks to you. Don’t patronize it; don’t reject it; don’t sentimentalize it; learn the language within which it makes sense. And come to the table to enjoy the breakfast, the breakfast which is himself, the Word made flesh, the life which is our life, our light, our glory.
Source:
http://ntwrightpage.com/sermons/Christmas05.htm
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Thoughts on Christianity and Perhaps Judaism and Perhaps Vice Versa
The following thoughts and comments that I will make should not be misunderstood because I do not subscribe to the ideology of “sola scriptura.” However, I do agree that the Bible is the word of God, but Christianity is not based on what the Scriptures say alone because it is simply based on following Jesus Christ and believing in him. A question one might ask with relevance to this is what came first the Scriptures or the Church? The answer is, of course, the Church. If anything we can be certain about with regards to Jesus is that John 1:1-4 tells us:
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men (ESV Bible)."
For some reason most Christians I have met today in the Evangelical type Church have read the Hebrew Scriptures (Old Testament or Tanakh), and also the New Testament and they have also studied them. However, most Jews that I have met today have never read the New Testament which is understandable, but they have also never read the Old Testament either and studied it. I do understand that most emphasis is on Talmudic studies, and the Torah portion. However, why not study the entire canon of the Tanakh. And, I do suggest studying the New Testament, I am certain that studying it is not a waste of time because the writers of the New Testament were Jews, and studying it does give insight and opens the window to ideas Jews had 2000 years ago and so on. Moreover, it is looking at Judaism in a much older cultural context, one might say. Of course, this is simply my thoughts and I am not sure if many Rabbi’s would agree to this idea; however, I think that if your Faith is solid than I don’t think reading ideas from other worldviews is going to change my thinking much, although it can perhaps enhance my thought process.
I posted something on my Facebook status recently in which I was saying that I just laugh at how people that are not theologians seem to think that they are experts at understanding theology and Scriptures. For some weird reason, they seem to only rely on expert opinions for other matters, except religion. Perhaps when they have a math question they go to a lawyer, and when they have a pharmaceutical question they go to an architect, I wonder? If you want to make an attempt at understanding Scriptures and theology why don’t they simply actually go to an institution of higher learning and do so, but please don’t try to tell me or misguide others about something you think you understand or claim that the Holy Spirit gave you revelation on the matter because the guy with the opposing view also thinks that the Holy Spirit revealed his personal exposition or interpretation to him. I don’t really have an issue with studying, but I do have an issue with not studying and making an attempt understand or making statements as if one understood.
Recently, I heard someone say that the Bible is the word of God, but not necessarily the words of God. The foregoing thought is by no means heretical; however, overly interpreting Scriptures puts them into the context of the interpreter, and by no means in the hearing context of the listener. Why is the previous idea true? Because the listener of a lectionary reading hears what God says to them individually perhaps, and when you use excessive exposition you change and alter the image that God intended for the listener to view in their minds. Finally, what I am saying is that theology is not Scriptures alone. Well, I don’t want to sound like I am rambling on, but then again these are just some simple thoughts I have on Christianity and perhaps Judaism and perhaps vice versa, but it does not make them your thoughts. I am done with this, blessings!
References:
ESV Bible
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men (ESV Bible)."
For some reason most Christians I have met today in the Evangelical type Church have read the Hebrew Scriptures (Old Testament or Tanakh), and also the New Testament and they have also studied them. However, most Jews that I have met today have never read the New Testament which is understandable, but they have also never read the Old Testament either and studied it. I do understand that most emphasis is on Talmudic studies, and the Torah portion. However, why not study the entire canon of the Tanakh. And, I do suggest studying the New Testament, I am certain that studying it is not a waste of time because the writers of the New Testament were Jews, and studying it does give insight and opens the window to ideas Jews had 2000 years ago and so on. Moreover, it is looking at Judaism in a much older cultural context, one might say. Of course, this is simply my thoughts and I am not sure if many Rabbi’s would agree to this idea; however, I think that if your Faith is solid than I don’t think reading ideas from other worldviews is going to change my thinking much, although it can perhaps enhance my thought process.
I posted something on my Facebook status recently in which I was saying that I just laugh at how people that are not theologians seem to think that they are experts at understanding theology and Scriptures. For some weird reason, they seem to only rely on expert opinions for other matters, except religion. Perhaps when they have a math question they go to a lawyer, and when they have a pharmaceutical question they go to an architect, I wonder? If you want to make an attempt at understanding Scriptures and theology why don’t they simply actually go to an institution of higher learning and do so, but please don’t try to tell me or misguide others about something you think you understand or claim that the Holy Spirit gave you revelation on the matter because the guy with the opposing view also thinks that the Holy Spirit revealed his personal exposition or interpretation to him. I don’t really have an issue with studying, but I do have an issue with not studying and making an attempt understand or making statements as if one understood.
Recently, I heard someone say that the Bible is the word of God, but not necessarily the words of God. The foregoing thought is by no means heretical; however, overly interpreting Scriptures puts them into the context of the interpreter, and by no means in the hearing context of the listener. Why is the previous idea true? Because the listener of a lectionary reading hears what God says to them individually perhaps, and when you use excessive exposition you change and alter the image that God intended for the listener to view in their minds. Finally, what I am saying is that theology is not Scriptures alone. Well, I don’t want to sound like I am rambling on, but then again these are just some simple thoughts I have on Christianity and perhaps Judaism and perhaps vice versa, but it does not make them your thoughts. I am done with this, blessings!
References:
ESV Bible
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Monday, November 3rd, 2008
On Monday, November 3rd, 2008, a new blog appeared in the blogosphere, and the name for it was Arango's Apologetics Page. The very first post was titled: On Flavius Josephus. Until today, I continue to post things that somehow come to my head about theological matters, and thus far I have been enjoying writing this as well as reading my own postings. Others have read the blog, and I hope that they enjoy what they read. God willing, I will continue to post my thoughts on here free of charge, and I also encourage you to make comments on what you think of what I have said, I definitely would love to hear your thoughts. Anyhow, I wish a very happy fourth anniversary to this blog, and many blessings to everyone reading it…Amen!
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Do we really need to know Hebrew to understand the Bible better?
The Old and the New Testaments were both written by Jews. Many times people have asked me because I have studied Theology if I speak Hebrew. As we all know, the New Testament canon we have today consist of 27 books, and it was written in Greek, and we also, really did not have the full canon until about 367 AD. To make a long story short, the reason for the New Testament is because of the resurrection of Jesus, and it was written by believers after His ascension. Now, those believers such as Paul and the Apostolic Church Fathers quoted from the Old Testament when they wrote in the New Testament. However, the Old Testament which they used was written in Greek, and it was the Septuagint.
The Septuagint was written about 300 years before Jesus was on Earth. Many Hellenistic Jews around the empire had began to lose the Hebrew language; therefore, this became a translation for them and others who spoke Greek. The Septuagint's name came from the Latin "septuaginta interpretum" which means the "translation of the seventy interpreters." The Septuagint was translated by about 70 Jewish Scholars. Normally the Roman numeral LXX (seventy) is used as an abbreviation. Now, the original question was do we really need to know Hebrew to understand the Bible better?
I will leave this up to you to answer. The Septuagint (the Old Testament), which was written in Greek, was around for 300 years before Jesus. I said that the Apostolic Fathers and Paul used it as reference when quoting in the New Testament. The early Christian Church used the Septuagint as their source for the Old Testament. If you spoke Greek, both the New and the Old Testament were there as a source from the beginning, and for 2000 years now. So, what do you think, do we really need to know Hebrew to understand the Bible better? Well, that would probably be entirely up to you because the Masoretic Texts are written in Hebrew; however, the seventy scholars that translated the Septuagint into Greek did a fantastic job. By the way, I have an interesting note; the Hebrew canon was not closed until the first century.
References:
http://ecmarsh.com/lxx/
http://www.ccel.org/bible/brenton/
The Septuagint was written about 300 years before Jesus was on Earth. Many Hellenistic Jews around the empire had began to lose the Hebrew language; therefore, this became a translation for them and others who spoke Greek. The Septuagint's name came from the Latin "septuaginta interpretum" which means the "translation of the seventy interpreters." The Septuagint was translated by about 70 Jewish Scholars. Normally the Roman numeral LXX (seventy) is used as an abbreviation. Now, the original question was do we really need to know Hebrew to understand the Bible better?
I will leave this up to you to answer. The Septuagint (the Old Testament), which was written in Greek, was around for 300 years before Jesus. I said that the Apostolic Fathers and Paul used it as reference when quoting in the New Testament. The early Christian Church used the Septuagint as their source for the Old Testament. If you spoke Greek, both the New and the Old Testament were there as a source from the beginning, and for 2000 years now. So, what do you think, do we really need to know Hebrew to understand the Bible better? Well, that would probably be entirely up to you because the Masoretic Texts are written in Hebrew; however, the seventy scholars that translated the Septuagint into Greek did a fantastic job. By the way, I have an interesting note; the Hebrew canon was not closed until the first century.
References:
http://ecmarsh.com/lxx/
http://www.ccel.org/bible/brenton/
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