st. michael’s blog

Review of 7th class, May 13 Genesis 39-42 Joseph's Adventures in Egypt

Scholars believe these Joseph stories were written by the Yahwist tradition (called so because their name for God was the unpronounceable word, YHWH) and the Elohists (called so because their name for God was Elohim). These stories are called Wisdom literature because they show us what is the right thing to do, what is right behavior. Unlike his predecessors, Joseph exhibits exemplary behavior. While he does not have any experience of God speaking with him or wrestling with him as did Abraham and Jacob, he is secure in the knowledge that God is with him. He does not yield to temptation. He has a God-given ability to interpret dreams. He is a good manager and inspires trust. Although in a strange land, he is successful. He does not allow his brothers' bad treatment of him to be an impediment in his life. He forgives his brothers, and sees that God meant his captivity in Egypt to be for the good of his family. He is humble. In other words he is the perfect role model for a good Jew, or a good Christian. God is clearly present in his life.

It's helpful to review what many scholars believe was the construction of the Hebrew text. The Yahwist texts were most likely written during the reign of Solomon, around 1000 BCE. In these texts, Moses is the hero. Yahweh is the only divine power in the universe. It is written from the viewpoint of the Southern Kingdom, the tribe of Judah, extols the monarchy and temple worship. It's Jerusalem centered.

On the other hand, the Elohist texts were written from the viewpoint of the Northern Kingdom (Israel) . They were more democratic, were anti-royalty. The sacrifice of Isaac is an example of the Elohist's dramatic style of story telling. Leah and her children were lessened; Rachel and her sons were lifted up. Jacob is the hero, also Joseph. Each hero is connected with a northern shrine (Hebron, Beersheba, Bethel) to counteract the emphasis on Jerusalem. After the defeat of the Northern Kingdom by the Assyrians in 721 BCE, someone saved these writings and put them together with the Yahwist texts.

About a hundred years later, a group who came to be called Deuteronomists (deuter = second, nomo = law) began another major revision of the Hebrew texts. During the time of King Josiah, a sacred scroll, supposedly written by Moses, surfaced. The king had it read aloud to the people who wept when they realized how far they had come from obeying God's law. They began a time of great reform, purification of worship, a growth of spiritual practice and a upsurge in national pride. No images could be used in worship; no foreign rites were permitted; the role of the priests was uplifted. The prophets, especially Jeremiah, Amos, Isaiah, Micah, Hosea were the heroes.

A short time later, in 596 BCE Judah was vanquished by the Babylonians, and her people dragged off in exile to Babylon. (See Psalm 137). Led by their priests, the captives re-wrote their scriptures in order to prevent themselves from being swallowed up by Babylonian culture the way the Northern Kingdom had been swallowed up by the Assyrians. They emphasized practices which set them apart --circumcision, and keeping of the Sabbath. Details of rituals were written down. The first creation story was added to the first chapter of Genesis. Synagogues were built to educate the Jewish population about their own history. Kosher rules began.

I have used Bishop John Spong's book, Rescuing the Bible from Fundamentalism for much of this analysis, but he is not the only scholar who shares this view of how the scriptures were patchworked together. If we accept this view of the Hebrew scriptures, how can we believe this is the word of God? Is it the literal word? Probably not, but there is much in it that is holy, telling the story of God's dealing with human beings from the perspective of various groups of Hebrews at various times. It is clearly a human document, but I believe it to be divinely inspired. God promised three things to Abraham: the land, many children, and a special relationship with God. The book of Genesis is a cliff-hanger, posing the question, will God fulfill his promise? In the book of Exodus the story continues, and we learn what humans are to do in order to live up to this promise (the Ten Commandments.)

Using human beings' imperfect, flawed and politically motivated attempts seems to me to be a way that God often works. History is always written from somebody's viewpoint, usually the conqueror's, but there is a quality of awe and mystery in these scriptures that points beyond what may be their earthly motivation.

Why did God choose Abraham? Abraham was not above lying, fighting, or conniving for his own economic well being. He did believe, however, what God promised and "that is counted to him as righteousness." (Genesis 15:6)

Isaac rather fades out of the story, except for the dramatic scene of his sacrifice, with his father bending over him with the knife. Many of the events in his life duplicate the things that happened to his father. Why? Was it because not much happened to him that was unique or to underline that he carried the promise made to his father?

Why did God choose Jacob, the cheater, the manipulator to inherit the promise? The twelve sons of Jacob are not necessarily righteous, but they carry the line as well. Joseph, of course, is a shining light, who forgives his brothers and manages to see to it that the line of Israel continues, in spite of the famine.

Some minor notes:

Joseph has two sons: Manasseh ("he made me forget") and Ephraim ("he made me fruitful"). These two are often counted as separate tribes, whereas all the other sons of Israel (Jacob) have only one tribe named after each them. Ephraim is often used as a name for the Northern Kingdom, Israel.

In the section about the dreams of two of Pharaoh's servants, the butler and the baker, the phrase, "lift up your head" is used as a rather grisly joke. In the case of the butler, it means he was restored to his position. In the case of the baker, it means he was hung by his head and killed. We are not told why.

There is a theme of God choosing, not the eldest son, but the younger. Consider the choosing of Jacob, not Esau. Joseph, not Reuben. Ephraim, not Manasseh. And later, the youngest son, the shepherd boy, David, to be king over all Israel. What do you make of that?

The eighth and last class in Genesis will be Wednesday June 10, in the Little House. We will finish the book of Genesis by considering chapters 42-50. Anyone is welcome to join the class at any time.

“I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!”  As I rolled this week’s gospel around in my mind, allowing it to percolate through my synapses toward sermon preparation, the image that kept recurring was that of Howard Beale, as played by actor Peter Finch in the film “Network.”  In that 1976 film, writer Paddy Chayevsky skewered the media, but his morality play actually illuminates a much broader theme, dealing with the total dehumanization, commercialization and economization of American life.  By “economization” I refer to the trend to express all values in financial terms, the assignment of a dollar value to everything, and a concomitant trend to trivialize as naïve any ethic that seeks to resist this trend.

In the film, newscaster Howard Beale, given two weeks’ notice for lousy ratings, experiences a breakdown and threatens to commit suicide on the air.  Given an opportunity for a more dignified goodbye after his disturbing outburst, he instead uses the time to rail against society’s ills.  His ratings soar, and he becomes the centerpiece of a new show focused on his populist ranting.  When this show, too, begins to decline in the ratings, the corporate powers-that-be arrange to have him shot to death, assassinated on the air.  The last scene in the movie is a wonderfully cynical montage.  As the narrator comments that Beale was the first man ever murdered because of bad ratings, an array of televisions play newscasts reporting the incident matter-of-factly, intermixed with the noise of commercials.   The film won a slew of academy awards.  It was considered groundbreaking in its time, but it turned out to be shockingly prescient, considering that we didn’t dream that media featuring the likes of Howard Stern,  Don Imus, Sean Hannity or Rush Limbaugh could ever become reality.  Those of us raised on the journalism of Eric Severeid and Walter Cronkite find it hard to understand that we would have to rely on Court Jester John Stewart, interviewing CNBC’s Jim Cramer, to provide the defining journalistic moment of the current financial meltdown.    The budding ecology movement and problems of economic justice of 1976 seem almost quaint next to the environmental and economic crises facing the world today.  The state of the planet today gives Jesus’ anger in the Temple real piquancy.

This week’s gospel gives us a fascinating glimpse of a different facet of Jesus, one that may give us pause, but which may also give us a certain inspiration.   The story of Jesus’ rampage in the temple appears in all the gospels.   In all but John, it comes at the end of the story, when Jesus enters Jerusalem before being crucified. One can imagine Jesus being a bit edgy at this point in his ministry.   John places the event at the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry.  Shortly after baptism, and right after the wedding at Cana, he flies into a rage and trashes the forecourt of the Temple.  The placement of this event at the end of Jesus’ ministry in proximity to his death  in a sense softens the event, while placing it at the beginning  places source of the anger in high relief.  We are invited to consider the message that Jesus sent with his anger as being part and parcel of his teaching throughout his ministry, not just a dramatic one-off under stress at the end.    Sometimes when reading the gospels, it is hard to understand how what Jesus was doing scared the agents of Empire so much that they found his death to be a necessity.  Imagining the message exemplified by his acts in the temple as a continuous thread in his teaching makes it clear:  his message was an unambiguous challenge to the established order of things.  He had to go.

So.  Instead of asking WWJD, “what would Jesus do,” our question for today is “What would Jesus be furious about?” which is where it gets interesting.

Today, our Older Testament lesson highlighted the core of the Mosaic law, the ten commandments.  Jesus didn’t enter the temple raging about the ten commandments, attacking thieves for stealing, adulterers for their fornicating, soldiers for their violence, or children for dishonoring their parents.  No,     Jesus storms into the temple, whip in hand, and crashes about denouncing, well, denouncing the religious for the economics of their religiocity.  

The temple was the place where people went to worship, to experience their relationship with God.  And Jesus enters the temple at the Passover, a time of critical religious observance.  The temple functionaries, from the high priest right down to the lowliest cleaner-up of pigeon guano were all really there for the same reason:  to meet the needs of the worshipers, to help people with their worship.  You couldn’t put Roman coins in the temple offering box, it had to be Jerusalem shekels, so if you came from out of town you needed to deal with the money changers.  (and of course, the many who had no coins at all couldn’t even enter.)  But, the tables of the moneychangers provided a needed service.  If you wanted to offer God an unblemished lamb or a bullock or a turtledove, as scripture required, you had to buy one- it made sense to have the livestock traders handy.  All could be justified as necessary, as providing a service, helping people worship God appropriately.

Ouch!  This is Jesus turning over my table.  This is not somebody else’s problem, this is us.  This is Jesus banging in here, kicking this pulpit over, tipping over the font, and flinging our Book of Common Prayer out the window.   Jesus is mad about the way we try to domesticate God,   the way confine our faith to church, and turn church activities into another item on our “to do” list between grocery shopping, servicing our car and pilates.   He is appalled that the God of love, compassion and power beyond imagining, is diminished to the level of a business transaction.  Vending machine faith:  put a little money in this slot, and we’ll dispense a little dose of the divine to make you feel good.  We come into the faith service-center empty on Sunday, and get topped up with enough energy and inspiration to make it through the week.   Are clergy just dispensers of a product, hawking the wares, trying to keep up the market share for a particular brand while offering you something you are looking for?  We’re all complicit in the transaction.

I see this so clearly in myself.  I hunger for an meaningful encounter with the Holy Awesome God of the Universe, but when the rubber hits the road I find myself disturbingly ready to preach about a “three point plan for spiritual wellness” that offers to help us “touch base with our spirituality.”  Not to plunge headlong into it, or abandon myself to the God of the burning bush, or, for that matter, take sides with the one who bursts into the church, whip in hand, overturning tables and driving confused animals up the aisles.

Which brings me to the ten commandments.  God’s covenant with humankind was not given to us because the commandments are the most reliable means to help us get what we want to satisfy our own selfish desires.  They are intended to expose our weakness, to remake us into God’s people,  dedicated to make God’s vision for humanity a reality.

Jesus is not a very satisfying guru for those who are after nice, acceptable, feel-good religion.  What we are called to do as Christians is to hand ourselves over, body and soul, to the God of the Universe, to the often frightening and all-consuming God, the one who calls us to ultimate table fellowship through his Son, to turn the mercantile vision of the world of scarcity into one of radical abundance for all people.  This is a table to approach with reverence and awe, not with a mere nod of familiarity.  When we ask God to pour out God’s holy spirit on the bread and wine we share, and to pour it out on us that we may be the body of Christ, just what do we think we are asking for?  Do we just mouth it without seriously considering the implications?   Do we really want that Holy Spirit to infect us?  If the Spirit does come to us in all-consuming fire and motivate us to be Christ in the world, there is no turning back.  All our worries about whether to pursue a master’s degree or a doctorate, whether we can afford a new car, or whether to seek a new boyfriend or girlfriend or a new job pale in comparison.    The personal implications of the economic crises on our own 401(k) are minimal in comparison with the havoc being wreaked on all of creation by the forces of empire and shortsighted economics of scarcity and greed.

Looking around the world today, reading the papers, seeing the newscasts, we should be mad as hell, but that righteous anger has been trained out of us.  Jesus’ example in the temple is thus an important example.   And expressing such righteous anger, speaking truth to power,  can be unpleasant, but it is utterly necessary.  As Jon Stewart said at the end of his interview of Cramer:  “I hope that was as uncomfortable to watch as it was to do.”

We complain about inequality and financial rapaciousness, about global warming and economic meltdown, but we must fact the fact that the forces shaping these problems are selling to us what we ask for.  We can’t respond to the enormous problems facing us by saying “Oh dear, how dreadful, but what can I do?”  We need to get good and angry, and then use that anger, in a loving way, to effect change.  Anger may help us expose and express the wrongs around us, but anger is not how we solve them.  Jesus makes our job tougher:  we must eschew violence, we must love the opposition, and try to love a new world into being.  Ultimate love, not ultimate fighting.

When we pass the Eucharistic bread, it is really like passing a live hand grenade, because if its transforming power really takes we must say goodbye forever to our wan and sensible religion.  When you hold the bread in your hands, you are holding the most volatile and mysterious power in the universe.  And you can’t take that lightly, because if your hands become the hands of Christ, they could find themselves doing amazing, life-changing things.

Before us is a God who offers everything, who sacrifices everything~ but God will crash the tables over rather than accept less in return.  Are we ready?  As Christians we are called to be angry about what Jesus would be angry about, and to do something about it.  And the way to act lies not in mimicking the violence of the powerful, but through love and sacrifice, shown to us in the ultimate form on the cross.  

Amen.

The Rev. Colleen K. Sterne
March 15, 2009 (3 Lent, Year B) St. Michael’s
Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19;  1 Corinthians 1:18-25; John 2: 13-22

Review of March 11 Class: Children and Grandchildren of Abraham

Genesis Chapter 22-33

The Sacrifice of Isaac

We took a while to discuss this fearful passage which was read last Sunday. It is known as the most dramatic of the stories of the patriarchs, and it is the one every one remembers. Our question: Why would God do that? Even the thought of child sacrifice was appalling to us parents of six children, five children and three children respectively.

Possible answers from theologians and others:

God did it to test Abraham. This most common answer is considered unsatisfactory by many. What kind of a God would put Abraham to the test like this?

Child sacrifice was commonly practiced in those times, by Canaanites and other neighboring tribes; this was a good way to get the word out that God did not demand child sacrifice. The angel of God came and said: "Do not lay your hand on the lad, or do anything to him."

The story prefigured Christ. As the child Isaac carried the wood, so Christ carried the cross. Of course, it was pointed out, Christ's sacrifice of himself was voluntary. Isaac's was not.

Abraham was mistaken that God asked him to sacrifice Isaac. Many people think they have received a message from God which turns out to be wrong. This was not a message from God at all, but an idea that Abraham had picked up (maybe from his neighbors) and only thought it came from God.

Abraham's Purchase of the Cave for Sarah's burying Place

This is the first piece of property within the land that God promised to him, that Abraham owns. There is a lot of detail about the negotiations for the property which would have been important to people of the time; it's not so important to us. It's said that this property was the "first installment" of the delivery of God's promise.

The long narrative of the search for a suitable wife for Isaac

Abraham sends his servant back to his hometown to find a wife for Isaac. "Put your hand under my thigh" and swear, is really a euphemism for "Put your hand on my genitals". Male genitals were considered the fountain of life, and oaths were sworn on them.

Abraham did not want Isaac to return there, but did not want him to marry a Canaanite girl. Milcah is Abraham's sister in law; Rebekah is Abraham's niece. Jewelry was the wealth of a family. The point of this very long narrative is to show that Isaac carries the line of Abraham, and that God chose Rebekah. .

An interesting note: the well at which the servant meets Rebekah is Beer-la-lai-roi, the same well that Hagar named after Abraham dismissed her, and God showed her water. It means "the well of one of sees (God) and lives."

Abraham's Second wife

After Sarah's death, Abraham marries Keturah and has six more children: Zimran, Jokshan, Medan, Midian, Ishbak and Shuah. They are sent away to the east, away from Isaac, who is carrying Abraham's line. Abraham dies and is buried by Ishmael and Isaac.

Isaac's Twin Sons

Isaac has many adventures that duplicate Abraham's. Encounters with Abimelech, a famine, telling a powerful ruler that Rebekah is his sister, so they won't kill him. Some scholars think this is either because Isaac doesn't accomplish much on his own, or because tales of his adventures have been lost. Isaac having the same experiences as Abraham underscores the fact that he carries Abraham's line.

When Rebekah is carrying the twins, they struggle with each other in her womb, and God spoke to her, fortelling that the elder would serve the younger. Esau, hairy and red, was born first, Jacob, grasping his heel, second. The name Jacob means "supplanter" (cause to stumble, to supercede or replace another by force or treachery) Esau was large, the outdoor man, the hunter, and his father's favorite. Jacob was smaller, worked indoors, raised sheep and was his mother's favorite.

Esau sells his birthright to Jacob for a "mess of pottage", probably lentil stew. A birthright meant a double share of the inheritance.

Jacob, with his mother's help, cheats Esau out of his father's deathbed blessing which was thought to release power upon the blessed one. Esau vows to kill Jacob.

Rebekah arranges to send Jacob to her brother Laban to find a wife. Esau, seeing that his father does not care for Canaanite women (he had married two Hittite women), takes as his third wife the daughter of Ishmael. On his journey, Jacob dreams of a ladder and has an encounter with God in a place he named Bethel (God's house)

When he comes to the well that Laban's family uses, he rolls away the stone by himself and kisses Rachel, Laban's daughter, and offers Laban seven years of service in exchange for her. After seven years, Laban brings him Leah, the older daughter instead. Jacob wants Rachel, so agrees to work seven more years. In addition he receives two maids:

Bilhah and Zilpah. Leah is pregnant first, and ends up giving birth to four sons. The sisters engage in a competition over who has the most babies, using their maids as stand-ins. Jacob ends up with eleven sons and one daughter, and decides after 20 years working for Laban, he wants to go home.

Jacob has been caring for Laban's sheep and goats, but makes a deal with Laban whereby he Jacob can keep the spotted and stirped animals. When the females are breeding he makes them look a saplings which have been peeled so they look striped and spotted, and that is how the newborns come out. He now has many animals, and decides to depart, no matter what Laban says. Jacob tells Rachel and Leah his plan, and Rachel steals her father's household gods, statues which insured a man's leadership in the family and claim on the property. She hides them in her camel's saddle and then, sitting on the saddle, tells her father she regrets not rising to say goodbye because it is her period.

Finally leaving Laban in peace, Jacob and his large group meet "God's army", a group of angels. He sends word to Esau that he is coming and tries to impress him with a list of all he now possesses. The messengers return saying that Esau is coming with four hundred men. Jacob is terrified, and vulnerable. He sends his women and children (12 very young children) to wait on the other side of the river Jabok. He sends some of his flocks ahead as gifts for Esau. Jacob spends the night alone, scared, and prays to God, reminding him that God had promised to "do him good."

During the night, a stranger comes and wrestles with Jacob until dawn. When the stranger saw that he could not win over Jacob, he touched his thigh and put it out of joint, and asked Jacob's name. Jacob tells him, and the stranger says, "No more shall you be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with man and God and not been defeated." Jacob calls the name of the place Penile "For I have seen God face to face, yet my life has been preserved."

The next day, Jacob looks up and sees Esau approaching. Esau ran to meet him, fell on his neck and kissed him. They part amicably and go in separate directions, Jacob eventually reaching Shechem.

The questions for us to contemplate: Why did God choose Jacob? The first born, Esau, should have inherited the mantle of Abraham. Instead God chose Jacob, the liar, the cheater, the manipulator. Why did God choose the people of Israel? Why did God choose us? One thing is clear from the Jacob stories: God does not want us to be passive.

Bible Study meets on Wednesday, Jan 14th, 7-8pm in the Little House! We'll be discussing the Promise of Abraham. To prepare, please read Genesis chapters 12-17. You may wish to review the notes from December's class and join in the fun! All are welcome -- ANYONE can join the class at ANY TIME!

Review of third class: A Boat and a Tower Genesis Chap 6-11

We start off with an encounter with a mystery: the Nephilim. Who and what are they?

There are many different opinions.

Were they the giants the Greeks referred to as titans? Were they meant to be an example of the increase in human wickedness? The book of Numbers 13:33 refers to them as "sons of God." Were they fallen angels? Seth's descendants? From the constellation of Orion? Were they Orion's semi-divine descendants? Nephilim remain a mystery.

The Hebrew Bible is called the TANAKH. That is because it is composed of the

T Torah the first five books, often said to be the books of Moses. Written most likely in 400 BC.

N Nevim The Prophets, written most likely in 200 BC

K Ketuvim The Writings, written most likely in 100 BC

The Boat

There are many flood stories, (Sumerian, Gilgamesh, the Koran) Many say the flood was to show the displeasure of the gods, but only the Hebrew flood story talks of man's evil doings. A revolt against God leads to violence against other people.

Noah, the righteous exception, walks with God, in other words Noah has intimacy with God as Adam and Eve did in the garden before the fall.

There is evidence of two Noah stories, as there were two creation stories, from at least two different traditions:

In one story there are seven pairs of *clean animals and a raven is sent out.

In the other story the all animals go aboard two-by-two, and it is a dove that is sent out.

*The definition of clean animals is in Deuteronomy 14:16, and Leviticus 11:18. Clean animals are defined as those who chew the cud and have cloven feet (hooves), or fish with scales and fins. All others are defined as "unclean" and were thought to be garbage eaters.

Note: A cubit was from the tip of the middle finger to the elbow.

Note the close connection between humans and the earth: when humans do evil, the earth is also corrupt and suffers.

In some ways the flood story is a third creation story. Note the wind (ruach) which blows over the waters in Gen 8:1., reminds us of the wind that blew over the face of the waters in creation (Gen 1:1). This is also the word used for the Holy Spirit.

The son Ham sees his father naked in the tent; is this a parallel to Adam and Eve recognizing their nakedness after they had eaten of the fruit of the garden? This incident is treated as a great sin and has even been used to justify slavery. Some scholars surmise that Noah, damaged by the flood experience, projects his self-disgust onto his grandson. No mention is made of his wife.

Noah's sons and their progeny create the table of nations in chapter ten.

The Tower

Babylonians built towers on the desert called ziggurats. The Hebrews ridiculed these towers by this story which depicts Babylonians trying to "make a name for themselves".

The implication is: having lost intimacy with God, they try to build a ladder to God, attempting to seize enlightenment and attain god-like powers.

The Babylonian word "Babel" means gate of God, but it sounds like the Hebrew word "Balal" which means confuse.

The story of Pentecost in Acts of the New Testament is the flip side of the Tower of Babel story. In the Pentecost story people could understand each other's languages because they were all praising God, not looking to make a name for themselves. They were unified in that effort. In the Tower story, because of their efforts at self aggrandizement their language was confused and made so they could not understand one another.

BS Part II: The End of Paradise Gen 3-5

It is important to remember that these writings were from the viewpoint of the early Hebrews. The writings should not be considered as history, but as the Hebrews' answers to questions:

Where did evil come from? Why are humans so afraid of snakes? Why is there pain in childbirth? Why do farmers have to work so hard to bring the harvest of food out of the ground?

These questions are addressed in this part of Genesis.

Most of these writings are thought to be written by the group we call "Yahwists" because their name for God was the unpronounceable word, "YWHW".

Good questions to ask are: What can we learn about the Hebrew conception of God? What did they think about humankind? What about the relationship between God and humans?

Note that chapter 5 is a different kind of writing. It is formulaic and rhythmic. Most scholars think this came from the group called the priestly writers. It forms a bridge between the Adam stories and the flood story. It is interrupted by verse 29 which introduces Noah and uses the Yahwists' name for God.

The overall theme of this part of Genesis is the increasing wickedness of humans. From the revolt against God in the Garden of Eden, events continue their slide downward with the murder of Abel, and later, the violence of Lamech. Note the connection between humans and the earth in Chapter 4:10.

There are two points of view about what happened to Cain. Was he a wanderer all his life or a founder of a city? These and other seeming contradictions are a result of the inclusion of several different traditions. When the different groups of writers of Genesis (Yahwists often called 'J' and the priestly writers often called 'P' as well as others) disagreed, they simply included all renditions.

Observations by our study group: Intimacy with God "walking in the garden in the cool of the day " is normative. Humans are quick to blame others. Women want to know everything. Male dominance over the female is a result of disobedience to God (and is erased with the sacrifice of Christ).

Our next class will be Dec 10, 7-8 pm at the Little House. We will be discussing "A Boat and a Tower". To prepare, please read Genesis, chapters 6 through 11.

We will continue on Jan 14 with "The Promise to Abram", chapters 12-17.

You are welcome to join the Bible study at any time!

An investigation into Genesis, the first book of the Bible: "How the World Began and Other Stories"

The Bible is not one book; it is a library of books, written by a variety of people, some known, most unknown. None of them dreamed that what they were writing was Holy Scripture.

What makes this particularly collection of writings Holy Scripture? We read the Bible on two levels: the first is in light of who wrote it, to whom and why. It is helpful to understand that. The second level is what it means for our lives here and now. What does it show us about God? About human beings? About ourselves?

Genesis is not the oldest book in the Bible. That honor belongs to the "Song of Deborah" a story of a valiant female warrior which can be found in the fifth chapter of the book of Judges. Scholars think the Song of Deborah was written in the 11^th century before Christ. But like the Song of Deborah, Genesis had its beginnings as a group of stories that were passed down from generation to generation by word of mouth. The oral tradition. Stories told from grandmother to grandchild.

Most scholars believe that Genesis was first written down during the exile--around 600 years before Christ. The northern kingdom of Israel had been vanquished. Jews in the Southern Kingdom of Juda had been captured and hauled off to Babylon. We can get a glimpse of their state of mind in Psalm 137. A group of captives, heartsick and longing for home start asking themselves what it meant to be Jewish, what it meant to be God's people. How did the whole thing start, anyway?

You may have noticed that there is not one, but two creation stories in Genesis, and they are very different. The first, written by people the scholars call priests, used the word Elohim for God. This story can be found in Genesis 1-2:31. The second account of the creation (Genesis 2:4-25) was written by people the scholars call Yahwists, because they gave God the unpronounceable holy name "YHWH". Later people inserted vowels so that it could be pronounced, "Yahweh." (Later other people added a few more letters and called the name of God, "Jehovah".)

But the commonly accepted story of creation in those days was the Babylonian Creation Myth, the story of Tiamat, Apsu and Marduk. You can Google it for yourself to read. The short version is that the Father God Apsu and the Mother God Tiamat were annoyed by their noisy offspring, so they killed most of them. In the struggle, Apsu dies. Tiamat plots revenge against her children, and one of the survivors, Marduk, is chosen to fight Tiamat.

Marduk blows wind into his mother Tiamat's belly, and she explodes. The upper half of her body becomes the sky, and the lower half, the earth. Marduk becomes the lord of the universe, the lord of Babylon and the god of war. He stands for force, power and violence. He has dominion over everything.

It is against the backdrop of this horrific creation story that the stories of Genesis take their shape. Read them over and note the marked differences between these stories and the Myth of Babylon.

A note: the Hebrew word, "Adamah" did not start out as a man's name. It was a collective noun, and it stood for red earth. The name "Eve" means living one.

Next class is November 12, 7-8 pm. Little House. To prepare, read Genesis 6-11!

Hope to see you then! Toni+

Dear St. Michael’s Community Member:

Open your mailbox any day and you’ll be deluged by bills—Cox, SoCal Ed, the Gas Company, Visa, DMV, insurance, and a host of others.  Then the computer generated requests for money from charities and political organizations of all sorts, plus credit card offers and it all adds up to stress. This letter from St Michael’s stewardship team is a personal heartfelt plea to support our church this coming year with a pledge of money, time, and talent.  In the Gospels of Matthew & Luke Jesus says, “For where your treasure is there will be your heart also.”

St Michael’s is a treasure, a beacon of spiritual light in Goleta and Isla Vista.  Our fabulous new vicar has energized the college crew, brought the Isla Vista and Goleta community into the sanctuary with Community Bilingual Yoga and Compline, added mariachi music to our joyous Lessons and Carols, and so much more.  But ordinary Sundays at St Mike’s are also a special time, for we are a small congregation, a face-to-face church like so many in the early years of Christianity.  No could mistake us for a mega church!  We participate in the life of the church by reading the lessons from the Hebrew Bible or the Epistles, sing the creed and the Lord’s Prayer. We greet each other warmly exchanging the peace, newcomers, old timers; young children, college students, and our stalwart group of elders.  We pass the collection plate to support our church with money.  And we gather around the altar for communion, renewing our baptismal commitments in taking the bread and wine.

In these tough financial times we are all cutting back on expenses.  Everything seems to cost much more--gas and groceries for a start.  But think of St Mike’s as a source of spiritual energy and food for the soul.  It is easy to give when times are abundant, but when times are hard, giving is tough.

Now think about where your treasure is. And then renew or make a new a pledge today.  At Lessons and Carols on December 7 at 7pm we will bless the pledge cards—and once again give the fantastic prize to the first one to pledge of the Virgin Mary night light.  Through all our pledges we help bring Christ’s light to Isla Vista and Goleta.

Yours in Christ,

Madeline Blickley
Sarah Cline   
Tim Cooley, Bishop's Warden      
Mark Juergensmeyer   
Dan Lowrey       
The Stewardship Team

~~~

What Stewardship Means To Me...

"Where is God?" our then two-year old daughter Sona asked me one evening, as she splashed in the bathtub. It's one of those questions that almost all parents must face from their children, but I had thought and hoped that it would come a little later, perhaps after Sona was toilet trained. Perhaps then I might be able to explain to her the doctrine of the Trinity. But it seems that our child and God always have different schedules than the one that Julie and I rigorously try to plan.

A big gulp. "You know when someone does something nice for you, or when you are nice to someone? How does it feel?" I point to her soapy chest.

"Good."

"Right. That's where God is." Inwardly, I pat myself on the back for this succinct statement of the immanence and transcendence of the divine.

"Oh."  Long pause. "Is God also where I feel sad?"

Leave it to God to reveal God's self to a toddler, in order to teach her parents what the faith we practice is all about. God isn't a heavenly benefactor who dispenses good things to the good people by taking away blessings from those whom we consider undeserving of our-and therefore God's-love. God's presence isn't a zero-sum game for whose attention we compete. God is where we feel good and where we feel sad: what Sona taught me that evening is that God is not God in our image, but rather we are the image of God.

What this means for us is that God is most obviously present to us when we feel the wonder and beauty of the God's creation: the sight and smell of wildflowers along the freeway, the family that gathers around a delicious meal, the hand on the shoulder at the communion rail, the chaotic vibrancy of a first kiss. But God is also where we are sad, when things fall apart, when the world around us collapses because of sickness, death, dissolution, calamity. God is most present when we experience the radical discontinuity of sadness and grief, the despairing loneliness at the heart of the human condition, what Alphonse de Lamartine best encapsulated when he wrote, "Sometimes, when a person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated."

But Lamartine also wrote this: "Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys." It is where and when we are sad that God reveals God's true self to us. For as much as our lives are a constant search for God's will in our lives, the converse is also true. The great civil rights activists and theologian, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, called this "God in search of man"; it is the story that we retell over and over when we recite Scripture in church and in our daily lives, that God makes a pastoral call to God's people whenever God's people are down on their luck. And it is the story of the cross that we look to, to the person executed because he wanted to remind us that at the moment we felt absolutely alone in this world, God looked for us in the example of a Palestinian Jewish peasant whose destiny was to take the world's sadness and say, God is where you are sad.

Stewardship for me means that we honor God's standing with us in our most vulnerable moments by standing with each other, holding one another aloft in both our despair and joy, reminding ourselves over and over that God is where we are happy and where we are sad. Stewardship is our response to God's persistent story of being in search of God's creation, in constant care to the places and people where God's people hurt most in the world, by becoming God's colleagues in turning the earth into God's kingdom. Most of all, stewardship invites those of who call ourselves followers of God through Christ to show ourselves as agents and examples of God's liberating demolition of isolation, alienation, and loneliness by giving of ourselves all the gifts that God gives to us to the rest of God's world, so that our work might be part of God's great plan to transform the human race into the human family.

Jim Lee, an enthusiastic pledger and supporter of campus ministry, teaches in the Asian American Studies Department at UCSB. Jim makes his spiritual home at St. Paul’s, Ventura.

Nearly sixty years ago, back when Isla Vista was a sleepy place with unpaved streets, inexpensive vacation cottages and ramshackle dwellings, a forward thinking priest from Trinity Episcopal Church in downtown Santa Barbara challenged his parishioners during their annual meeting to think about the opportunities for mission that awaited them at the new UCSB campus in Isla Vista. Shortly after that meeting, the Methodist husband of one of the Trinity congregation members handed the priest a check for $5,000 to "see what could be done" in Isla Vista. And so, on December 11th, 1949 the rector of Trinity and a small group of parishioners erected a sign amidst the grass and eucalyptus trees announcing the future plans for this small piece of property that we now worship on. By 1954, the first chaplain had been called to the new university mission. A 34 year old former journalist and practicing physicist, he served part time in Isla Vista and part time on the staff of Trinity. He named this new church community "St. Michael's."

 

It is unclear exactly why the mission was named for Michael the archangel. One theory is that the new chaplain named it St. Michael's after a parish he had previously served before coming to Santa Barbara. The more interesteing and appropriate theory, of course, is that he chose the name of St. Michael & All Angels for this church, in honor of the saint whose feast day coincides with the start of the school year. In the calendar of saints, St. Michael's feast day is celebrated September 29 and known as Michaelmas Day, one of the four quarter days on which accounts were settled and, in England, when the terms began in universities.

 

Regardless of the first chaplain's particular motivation to claim Michael as our church community's patron saint, Michael's link to the university calendar is certainly fitting. There is also a whole lot more to the legend of St. Michael that bears exploration and celebration. As I've commented before: "Thanks be to God, we certainly don't draw our identity from the lore of a lame saint!"  And just like we might draw inspiration and strength from the meaning of our own names and the stories of our own families and communities, so too can we be challenged and strengthened by knowing the story of the person for whom our church community is named and knowing our faith community’s own history.

 

There are many, many stories in many, many religious traditions about St. Michael. In Jewish tradition he is known as the protector of Israel. In Islam he is know as a good angel, bringing "peace and plenty." In Christian tradition, the Book of Revelation – the text we just read this morning -- tells the story of Michael's triumphant battle over evil. He is often depicted with sword in hand and known as the good angel of death and field commander of the Army of God. Popular Christian lore casts Michael as the patron saint of paratroopers, police officers, mariners, paramedics and grocers. His profile as a healer is especially well developed and legend has it that he even caused an outbreak of the plague to cease!

 

I think it's fair to say that Michael never shied from being in the "thick of it all."  Cosmic battles. Infectious disease. Warring nations. The magnitude of these forces never prevented Michael from being able to envision possibilities for a new, more peaceful, world order.

 

Having a tendency to be drawn into the thick of important questions and issues isn't bad DNA for a church! Over the course of its communal life, St. Michael's University Church – along with the students, faculty, staff and community members it serves -- has found itself drawn into precisely these sorts of conversations, ministries and work. In fact, the bell we ring every morning as the first act of communal worship, was christened "The Prophet Isaiah" – and is seen as a modern-day sword-being-turned-into-plowshare story. And so one could say that from the first ring of the bell each Sunday, we are drawn into professing and living out the sort of  radical transformation that both Isaiah and Michael engaged in.

 

In preparation for today, as I reviewed history the of St. Mike’s documented by one of its former vicars in a "paper" written in honor of the church’s 40^th anniversary in 1994 (thanks Mark Gardner!), I found story after story of transformation. Here are just some highlights: During the 1950s, “Teen Canteen,” an effort to diffuse Latino-Anglo racial tensions in Isla Vista brought high school youth together at the church for social events and mutual understanding. The police estimated that it cut delinquency rates by 50%! Around the same time, a group of students from the Devereux School for developmentally disabled kids began to attend the church on a regular basis -- for a while they constituted half the community members present at the service. By the end of the decade, this chapel in which we now sit had been constructed – the architecture meant to represent in modern design the simplicity of the Isrealites’ tent for God during their wilderness wanderings. In the 1960s a group of committed parishioners helped to establish a community nursery school on site. St. Michael’s also welcomed Bishop Pike – a restless and radical visionary who had been forbidden to preach or celebrate in this diocese; he “preached the announcements” on Easter Sunday at two services attended by over 550 people. In the 1970s, Bishop Barrett who in his retirement helped to “irregularly ordain” the first 11 women priests in the Episcopal Church known at the "Philadelphia Eleven", became a member at St. Michael’s. Following his participation in these ordinations, he and a well-known outspoken Catholic bishop, Daniel Corrigan, gave a forum at St. Mike’s to discuss their views on women’s ordination. Barrett remembers that the people of St. Michael’s were “quite receptive” to the idea of ordaining women, and a Roman Catholic official appeared to be implicitly sympathetic by attending the forum.” As community and student participation flourished at St. Mike’s, so did the nursery school. It soon gave birth to a secondary ministry called Operation Kids, which allowed disadvantaged children in IV to receive care and educational enrichment while their parents, mostly single mothers, worked. In the 1980s, St. Mike’s established Transition House (housed in the Little House)—a place where homeless people could make the transition back to mainstream life. The chaplain also led students in a series of humourous and dramatic gospel plays in place of the homily on Sundays. Students also developed an outreach to nearby Friendship Manor Retirement Community, regularly joining with residents there to say Evening Prayer. During the 1990s and early part of this century, St. Mike’s sold a part of its property to Hillel, engaged in a major renovation of its buildings and grounds and in its desire to become a spiritual oasis for the community, experimented with sober block parties for the neighborhood. Today we engage the student and neighborhood community through various spiritual formation, educational and activism opportunities. And of course, just as Michael would have it, our ministry continues to evolve and grow in new and perhaps unexpected ways in response to the people, issues and needs among and beyond our community. (If you'd like to read more about the history of St. Mike's in "Our First 40 Years" -- please speak to the chaplain!)

 

+++

 

Some of you know that I've in the middle of a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon through my DVDs by mail program. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is a television series about a high school student named Buffy who has been anointed as a slayer of vampires. She and her team -- which consists of school mates and her adult "watcher" who also serves as school librarian – make it their business to keep the forces evil at bay. And so, Buffy trolls graveyards armed with crosses, holy water and spikes to save the world from the encroaching forces of cosmic evil. These forces of evil, however, are resilient and stubborn things, however. They fester below ground in the underworld until they gain the strength to surge from the hell mouth to claim their next victims. Each kill, each act of evil, gives them the energy they need to continue the battle.

 

Despite the 90s clothing styles, suburban high school setting and sometimes cheesy vampire creatures, this television series is not what you might expect at first glance. Upon close examination in fact, Buffy is a sophisticated and relevant theological and progressive commentary on the battle between good and evil and other events we read about in the Bible. It's a modern take on the ministry and work of Jesus, St. Michael and a whole host of others – the ministry of imagining the possibility for a more peaceful world – and working to realize this vision. Flanked by ancient wisdom, imagination, adventure, desire and a moral compass, all of these figures challenge the society of their time and push their communities to explore previously unknown territory.

 

I'm currently at a point in the seven season series where Buffy is struggling with identity as a slayer. Many days, she just wants to be a normal high school student at Sunnydale High, yet she is anointed and called to be the slayer. In this identity crisis she is forced to confront questions like: How will she find a balance between her vocation and her life as a high school student? How will she come to terms with her relationship to an immortal "good vampire" named Angel who is a vampire cursed with a soul?

 

I raise this topic of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, not to digress or to grace you with more pop culture knowledge – but because 1) I think that like the TV series Buffy, there is a lot about St. Mike’s – especially to our neighbors – that may not be apparent at first glace. 2) These questions that Buffy struggles with about her own vocation may also be relevant to us at St. Mike’s. Being a vampire slayer is no easy vocation, nor is it easy to follow in the footsteps and tradition of our patron saint Michael! Yet this is precisely our call – to be a community that works to bring about justice, encourages conversation about big questions and cares about the physical, psychic and spiritual needs of our neighbors. It may be of surprise to your average Isla Vistan, perhaps knowing nothing about St. Mike’s or never having thought about church in an expansive way, to hear that this is the vocational DNA of our church community.

 

So our challenge this morning is to go out and tell and live the story that is a part of our DNA! To seize the invitation to enter the “thick of it all.” To think about how we wish to shape the future! And as we celebrate the life of this congregation and the feast day of our patron saint, may our guiding light Michael the Archangel continue to be a constant source of challenge and strength to us all, inspiring us –individually and collectively-- to explore new realms and possibilities within our often fractured, anxious and hurting world.

 

The Rev. Nicole Janelle

Feast of St. Michael

28 September 2008

Back when I was in middle school, Magic Eye books were all the rage. You might remember that these books are filled with page upon page of what appears at first glance to be an intricate computer generated colorful pattern. But when you take a closer look at the pattern, a three-dimensional image or even a whole scene emerges through the fuzz of these blotches of color. Every person seems to have his or her own system of accessing that 3-D image. Some people plaster the book to their nose, others cross their eyes, and still others stands on their heads in an effort to see this image pop out among the blotches of color! The trick to activating your Magic Eye is being able to see and seize the world that lies beyond the chaos of the page.

 

Life is sometimes like contemplating a page of a Magic Eye book. At first we may only see static or chaos and then after a good long stare the static blurs and if we are focused we’re able to feel ourselves cross over a threshold into a new world. This new world may come quickly into focus – and then maybe quickly out of focus for a moment – but with patience this new realm is ours to marvel at and to explore.

 

Today’s reading from the Hebrew Bible presents us with a bunch of nervy, subversive women who were able to cross into a new world. In this lesson we learn that Pharaoh, weary of the prosperity of the Israelites in Egypt, has ordered the midwives to kill all male babies bore to Hebrew women. From the moment we are introduced to these midwives, we know that something exciting is about to happen. Women are not often named in the Bible and so for us to fall upon two named women (whom the text suggests may not even be Hebrew women) we are clued-in that Shiphrah and Puah must be a critical part of Israel’s story. Well, it turns out that they are extraordinary women; spurred on by their awe or fear of God, they single handedly subvert the orders of the king to ensure the survival of Israel. And when pharaoh reprimands the midwives, they feign incompetence (wink, wink!), insisting that Hebrew women are a rare breed – they are so vigorous that before the midwife can come, they give birth. This story is followed up of course by tales of more brave women who aid in rescuing and saving Moses.

 

These stories are especially powerful because they introduce us to people who boldly and unabashedly defend life, even at considerable personal risk. Through their inner compasses, some might say their “magic eye”, they see another way out of the chaos and are able to transport their communities into a new world – a new realm – the Kingdom of God.

 

You may know that one of the things I did during my time away this summer, was to visit the Episcopal Diocese of Haiti. And coming off of that experience I find myself with a renewed sense of awe and appreciation for people and groups who are able focus on a way forward amidst chaos and injustice to bring about new reality. I traveled to Haiti to assist in a non-violence training for young adults, sponsored by the Episcopal Peace Fellowship. My week long jaunt to Haiti was extraordinary – I got to meet many young adults and hear about their lives, I was able to preach in lively Episcopal Church as a part of a four day diocesan wide “spiritual renewal,” I celebrated Eucharist with several congregations including a group of elderly folk at an Episcopal nursing home (Foyer Notre Dame) and I visited a new pediatric hospital that is serving the poorest of the poor in Port au Prince. Those of you who may have visited Haiti know that it is a country in chaos and it is a country that is suffering – and yet in the midst of this chaos the Episcopal Church is doing amazing things – operating and building schools, universities, retirement communities, a seminary, medical clinics AND organizing children’s choirs, orchestras and church programs.

 

The Episcopal Church of course isn’t the only bright light in Haiti, there are many other organizations that are bringing infrastructure and hope to place that has been torn down by decades of devastating foreign policies and internal corruption. The now famous American physician Paul Farmer, who has established a comprehensive healthcare system on Haiti’s central plateau, is another example an individual who along with others has been able to carve out a space for healing, hope and justice among the chaos. Some of you may have heard Dr. Farmer speak about Partners in Health this winter during his visit to Santa Barbara – I know I brought a few students to his lecture. I mention Paul in particular, because it turned out that he was on my flight from Haiti back to the States – which I found incredibly serendipitous!

 

People in the Diocese of Haiti, Paul Farmer – these are examples of folks who have seized the same decisiveness and determination to preserve life as the women of today’s reading. These individuals are making their way out of stasis and chaos to realize a new vision – and making it happen!

 

During our nonviolence training, each young adult was asked to complete the following statement: “If I weren’t afraid, I would __________” It’s a brilliant exercise because follows is extremely telling. Think for a second, how would you answer that question? We know how the women in today’s lesson answered that question. The young adults in Haiti talked about putting an end to the kidnappings, the corruption, the hunger, the unemployment, the general violence, the violence against women and children, the lack of opportunity for education and advancement and absusive foreign policies. A funny thing happens when we answer the question -- it takes the edge off that thing we are afraid of doing, doesn’t it? I have no doubt that the mere exercise of vocalizing a response to this question empowered these young adults to go out and create change in a way they throught may not previously have been possible – we’re talking small change, of course, baby steps, but a change nonetheless.

 

Whenever I talk to people about the Magic Eye books as a metaphor for their spiritual lives, I always have to confess that I am one of those people who has tried in vain to enter the three dimensional world of the Magic Eye, but with little success. My sister, who has tried and tried to explain exactly what she does with her eyes to see beyond the page, assures me that there are other like me who can’t quite get the knack. I still haven’t met these people, but I assume that they exist. Regardless, I’ve heard in such detail what she and others see that it doesn’t matter that I am not able to actually see this world for myself, because through my imagination I am able to be in that world.

 

Regardless of our ability – or lack thereof – when it comes to the Magic Eye, it’s important to know that the realm beyond the page – the Kingdom – is there and it is ours if we can see it and seize it. For some, this process might be swift – the focus will be immediate and sharp. For others, focus might emerge more slowly and may involve creative means.

 

Thomas Merton, the Catholic monk and contemplative writer, wrote that his moment of seeing came out of the blue, on a street corner in Louisville. “I was suddenly overwhelmed [he recounted] with the realization that I loved all people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness…It is a glorious destiny to be a member of the human race, though it is a race dedicated to many absurdities and one which makes mistakes: yet, with all that, God Himself gloried in becoming a member of the human race! To think that such a commonplace realization should suddenly seem like news that one holds the winning ticket in a cosmic sweepstake.”

 

We are blessed to be part of a rich tradition of people who can be challenging conversation partners in our journey to uncover the Kingdom of God. Brining about the Kingdom is no easy task. But like the midwives, once we are able to see what needs to be done, the blessing of God carries us through.

 

Amen.

 

The Rev. Nicole Janelle

St. Michael's, Isla Vista

Year A, Proper 16

24 August 2008