Ok, a bit overdue but…

Wednesday night was great. You know, just a regular weekday mass with 20+ servers, 7 priests and a presiding bishop. I was the second torchbearer from the right. Literally. A wonderful time was had by all despite it being a tremedous hot and humid day for mid September in NY. The church certainly lived up to its nickname (Smokey Mary) and used two thuribles for the procession of a relic of the True Cross. I didn’t know they had one of those there but wasn’t terribly surprised.

The PB seems like a nice guy. He hung out and chatted with folks in the sacristy before and after the service, stayed out of the way when we were bustling around with various items, etc. I introduced myself to him; no huge chat, just a quick hi. He’s fairly soft-spoken though. This was especially evident when he was out chanting the prayers–I could barely hear him and I was in the chancel choir…I hope the sound system in the main nave carried better. He preached a fine sermon. Wasn’t stellar but it was decent and contained no heresies (for those keeping track of such things…).

Now–after observing tens if not hundreds of priests doing their thing in various situations, places, etc. I have come to a personal test to determine whether a priest is High Church. Of course this has *absolutely nothing* to do with how good of a priest, who pious of a priest, or how faithful of a priest a person is. Lots of Low Church people are these things; several High Church folks aren’t. This only determines worship style–and separates the practitioners from the posers. Anyway, the way to tell is how they cense the altar. Proper technique is about wrist action. A priest unfamiliar with this task tends to hold their wrist stable and they gingerly wave the thurible around. A more practiced priest will snap the wrist (this also causes the proper *clank* on the down-swing as it hits the chain on the rebound). The PB is a gingerly waving kind of guy. You could tell even before we hit the nave, though that he isn’t High Church. He didn’t do anything wrong, didn’t pretend otherwise–you could just tell that he wasn’t in his native environment. And that’s totally fine with me. We needn’t all be High Church…

Overall–seems like a nice guy; soft-spoken. The right leader for the church at this time? Who knows. We all have to play the cards we’re dealt.

Last night was the New York Medieval Liturgy group. The presentation was on decorative schemes in a 14th century missal from Saint-Denis in reference to the feasts of St Denis and connections with the royal court. Good scholarly discussion all around.

* A Blessed Exaltation of the Holy Cross, y’all.

* Pontifical High Mass tonight at Smokey Mary! The Presiding Bishop will be celebrating. Maybe I’ll get a chance to meet him… Check for a report tomorrow.

*From the Well That Clears That Up Department: Peter Akinola has clarified what’s going on in Alexandria; it’s not a business meeting, it’s just a Bible study. Alright then…(Hat-tip to Thinking Anglicans)

*Dissertation: Things are busy at work and campground–I’m switching rooms within the current domicile. Between that and the High Mass I fear that not much dissertation work will be done tonight. Chapter 2 is rockin’ along (we’re at 19 or so pages). Good pages. With dense nasty footnotes.

*Menologium on the horizon: As part of my research for the latter part I’m doing a translation of the Menologium. I figured I’d go ahead and translate it since I haven’t run across a ModE version anywhere else. I’ll post it up once I get it done, then King Alfred can tear it apart if he feels so inclined… ;-)

Note: This is a long post so I broke it up between Part I here and Part II below.

The Benedictine liturgies of the Divine Office and the Anglican liturgies that are their spiritual heirs are fundamentally about the disciplined encounter with Scripture. In the Benedictine liturgies, the Psalms are prayed in their fullness every week and the Bible is read through in community every year. In the Anglican system, the Psalter is prayed every month and the Bible is read through—more or less—every year or two through the Office and daily Mass readings. Throughout this process, Scripture is constantly being re-examined through a process of contextualization. That is to say, Psalm 4 means one thing read on the morning of the first day of the month and other when it was read at Compline the night before. It means one thing to read the Passion of Christ on a somber Good Friday; it means something else to read it in an evening in the autumn. Neither of these contextualizations exhaust the meanings of the respective texts. Instead, the contextualizations bring their own meanings, deepen, and fill out certain parts of the text.

Vespers as read from the ’79 BCP has an odd piece missing. On a “normal” day, three readings are prescribed. Yet there are two slots for readings at Matins, and two at Vespers. The empty slot is filled in with a variety of options according to local practice. At Smokey Mary’s, we are finishing a continuous reading of the book of Job as the locally determined first reading. Here, in September of 2005, a special context has been provided for the reading of this book. Job sounds different—Job reads different this week—in the face of Hurricane Katrina and in this Sunday’s commemoration of September 11th here in New York City. With this context in mind, I shall offer some reflections on the end of Job in September, 2005.

Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind:
“Gird up your loins like a man;
I will question you, and you declare to me.
Will you even put me in the wrong?
Will you condemn me that you may be justified?
(Job 40:6-8)

Job is a difficult book. A long poem with a prose beginning and ending, many interpreters have sought to understand its lessons about God, humanity, and the issue of suffering while grappling with questions and teachings about a good God who cares for humanity and who answers prayer. Some have found solace; others, have found only more questions. Some have even been disgusted with what they found there and have left having found a god there whom they can no longer worship. Katrina and 9/11 ask for answers. Some look to Job—but some do so with trepidation, fear what they might find—or never find.

Glossing the first many chapters quickly, Job sits and debates with his friends. They start off strong: “And they sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great” (Job 2:13), but then everybody starts talking and things go down-hill in a hurry. There are some great speeches tucked in here (4:1-5:27 is a favorite of mine though I won’t agree with everything in there). To over-generalize and caricature, the speakers in Job operate out of the perspective found in Hebrew wisdom literature and, indeed, in wisdom literature from across the globe. Essentially, the argument boils down to a few key points. The main one, and one that you will find throughout the wisdom literature of the Bible (especially Proverbs, certain Psalms and Ecclesiasticus/Wisdom of Jesus Ben Sirach), is that actions have consequences.

The way that this concept shakes out is that good things happen to good people; bad things happen to bad people. As Proverbs envisions it, God is not necessarily directly involved. Instead, the world itself has retribution built into it. Treat people like crap and you’ll receive it in spades. Common laments in the Psalms recommend that the evil who have dug pits and laid traps might fall into their own snares (Pss 9:16, 35:8, 69:22, etc.). Many of the short, pithy wisdom sayings in Proverbs state that the wicked will face punishment for their bad deeds, the righteous will receive rewards for their good deeds. This is the worldview that both Job and his friends are trying to reconcile. His friends say, “Look—your world’s gone to hell; you must have done something wrong.” Note Job’s response. His argument is, “No! I haven’t done anything wrong and this shouldn’t be happening to me!” Both camps are working from the same paradigm, they’re both just arguing different sides of it. Essentially—they’re both trying to put God into the same box. They’re both using the same mechanistic understand of how God and the world act. And, as it turns out, they’re both wrong.

The problem is—there’s quite a lot to recommend this line of thought. Overall, this basic concept of good will receive good and bad will receive bad actually has a lot going for it. We can think of numerous examples where this is the case. The wicked get what they deserve, the good are exonerated. Or even, the wicked live with turmoil and distress, the good in quietness and peace. This view isn’t always wrong. The problem, however, as 9/11 and Katrina point out, it leaves an awful lot unexplained. My take on it is this: overall, this wisdom way of thinking is a good way to live and a good way to pattern one’s life. Do good, hope for good. Learn to love the good and do it. Avoid the bad, don’t be jealous of their ill-gotten gains (Prov 11:3-4, 28; 22:1, etc.). While it provides a good pattern for life and morals, it does not ultimately answer the question of theodicy—why bad things happen to good people.

The best way that I have found to think through this is to return to the thought above: actions have consequences. This is in the same line as good=good/bad=bad but it doesn’t go nearly as far and it doesn’t make promises. Instead, it means that both good and evil actions have consequences many—perhaps most—of which are not immediately comprehensible to the actor. What do I mean by this? A stock, rather facile, example might clarify things. Let’s say we have a drug dealer. He’s a bad dude. As part of his way of making a living he kills some folks. These folks, in turn have living friends with guns. As the drug dealer hangs out on a street corner one night, the living friends come by and shoot him dead. So far, so good, right? Actions have consequences. He made choices and committed actions. The inevitable result of these choices visited themselves upon him. In one sense, then, this validates the wisdom notion of bad=bad.

But let’s say—as we occasionally hear—a stray bullet flies into a nearby house killing a child asleep in bed. How do we explain this? Because a bad thing happened, is it the result of the child’s sin? Some would say yes. Some would remind us that everyone sins, thus the child had sinned, thus he has received death which are the wages of sin. At which point I give them the look that says—you’re an idiot. I would explain it differently. I would reiterate that actions have consequences. The actions of the drug dealer had consequences that went far beyond what he could see or imagine. Yet these actions of ours have consequences, even—especially—ones that we cannot foresee or know.

Others might say, “Well, it was just his time to go,” or, “God just needed him more than we did” both of which are a variation of the “It’s all part of God’s plan” answer to tragedy. I suppose this answer works for some people—it must based on how frequently I hear it—but this view makes me furious. I simply don’t buy it. It is unworthy of the God that we worship because it presents a god who is insensitive and completely uncaring towards suffering on a massive scale. When this logic is taken to its logical conclusion than it requires that God be responsible for the Shoah (the heinous crime formerly known as the Holocaust), the genocide of the Armenians, and ethnic cleansing in various parts of the world all because—well, God felt that it was part of His plan. No. It wasn’t. They weren’t. I’ll tell you what they’re part of—human sin. Unadulterated, unalloyed human sin. 9/11 was not God’s plan but sin working itself out in fire, blood, and twisted steel.

Human sin has consequences far beyond what we can see. Some things in this world that appear to be impersonal forces are, in fact, the effects of human sin working themselves out on a grand scale. I, personally, have never poisoned a stream. But my participation within a system of economic production perpetuates slovenly and sometimes down-right evil behavior towards the environment. I have never raped or killed anyone. Yet, as an Anglo-Scandinavian, I am the product of a race that has elevated rape, pillage, murder and wars of conquest to an art form. My over-privileged, over-educated ass sits on the Upper East side in an apartment built on bones. Did I create a racist, oppressive system? No. Am I the beneficiary of one? Yes. These are the consequences of sin writ corporate and writ large, institutionalized into national ways of being contrary to God’s commands and God’s call on our lives.

Could God stop the tragedies of 9/11, the Shoah and a host of others besides? Is God powerful enough to halt them? Yes. But God doesn’t. God does not act in these circumstances—I believe—because He has chosen to impose limits on His own power in order to preserve human freedom. Freedom to do good—and also to do evil. I do not believe that God manipulates us like so many marionettes. God has created us and enabled us to be autonomous agents. We take that freedom and we mess it up and pervert it, but we have the choices. The upshot of this is that in order for human evil to be checked, other humans must act to check it. Some of these actions will be good but even some of these will be evil. But those are the breaks. This is because—as I understand it—humans are two things: first, we are willful and thus tend toward evil, and second, we are limited. The first is because of sin—but the second isn’t. God’s creation—including humanity—is good. But we are good—not perfect—and there’s a difference. Due to our material nature we are necessarily limited…it just comes with the embodied territory…but that created nature in and of itself is not evil.

To return to Job, at the end of the whirlwind speech (Job 38:1-41:34), Job speaks in repentance (42:2-6). Here Job realizes that his stance has been wrong and he backs off from blaming God. He repents of the rashness of his words but even here Job is not repenting of sin—nor should he! What he is doing is acknowledging the fact of his created limitations in the face of a God who is without limitations—except for those He has chosen to impose upon Himself.

So, to recap, Job and his friends were working with a model of God and God’s relationship with humanity that was incorrect because it was over-determined and mechanistic. While Job’s friends insisted on his guilt and he insisted on innocence they were all playing with a flawed construct of God. [This is a good point to note that Job is a fictional character. Yes, everybody sins, but the story is framed in such a way that Job is portrayed as thoroughly righteous. It is as if he did not sin—at least, nothing serious enough for God to consider a real sin. No it’s not realistic, it’s not supposed to be, that’s why the whole thing is set up as a folktale—especially the prose frames to the story.]

Instead of going that over-determining step, we can (and should) take a step back and affirm with Job and his friends that actions have consequences. But, we disagree with them by attempting to specify exactly what these are. Furthermore, not all consequences can be laid at the feet of God—many of them more properly belong at our own feet—but we’d rather have some one else to blame.

So—that answers part of the problem. For me, at least, that addresses the whole 9/11 issue. Why did bad things happen to the people on the planes and in the towers? Because of human sin. The primary cause, of course, is the sin of the hijackers and those directing them. Lurking in the background, of course, are the sins committed by governments, institutions, and people who place oil and the money it brings ahead of people. Were the civilian casualties on 9/11 responsible for these background sins? Well, no. Or, certainly no more than the rest of us. But what about Katrina? German Green Party members aside, I don’t think that human sin or environmental policies were responsible for the hurricane earlier this month or the tsunami late last year or any number of other natural disasters. So—what gives? Can Job help us with this one? I think so…

It’s interesting to note that the book of Job never really wrestles with the question of evil. Think about it—take a hard look—and you’ll notice that evil is never really addressed. The thing that trips up many Christians is the presence of a certain character in the prose frame especially at the beginning: Satan. More properly, however, this character is ha-satan, which is Hebrew for “the adversary.” This fellow is a member of God’s court and acts something like God’s DA; he’s the prosecutor for the State and brings people up on charges—they then have to defend themselves. This is not the devil of the Christian tradition and of the Christian Bible. He is not in opposition to God but instead works for God. He may be in opposition to humanity, but he works for God. That’s not to say, however, that there are not forces arrayed against God portrayed within this book. This gets a little complicated, but bear with me…

Genesis 1 is often considered the creation story. It’s not. It’s a creation story. There’s another one that follows right after it, Gen 2-3, that wrestles with different questions from a different perspective. There’s another one tucked into Proverbs that’s heavy on architectural motifs (Prov 8:22-30). Note that phrases recalling it pop up in odd places elsewhere in Scripture (like the “pillars of the earth” notion found in 1 Sam 2: 8 [the Song of Hannah], Job 9:6; 26:10-11, and Psalm 75:3). Well, there’s yet another creation story in the Hebrew Bible which is most clearly laid out in Ps 74:12-17. It has parallels in other Ancient Near Eastern cultures, especially those that had a direct bearing on the Hebrew peoples, the Canaanites and the Babylonians. Essentially, in these stories a storm god in a more or less human shape battles another god who is dragon-shaped who is or who represents the waters of chaos. The anthropomorphic god kills the other and rends its body apart to create the world as we know it: order is created out of chaos. [Necessary note: this version depends more heavily on the Babylonian version, the Marduk-Tiamat struggle. The Canaanite version between Ba’al-Lotan is heavily fragmentary—we cannot be sure that a creation event happened in this version—and some versions suggest that Anat, Ba’al’s sister/wife/some sort of female relation either fights with him or perhaps in place of him. As I said, it’s fragmentary…]

I bring this up because the book of Job has a high count of references to dragon-esque beings [another necessary note: references to dragons in the KJV are actually mistranslations, though; read instead “jackal” which is really close], Leviathan, and a critter called Rahab which is another name for Leviathan. Notably, Job begins the poetry section of the book with an invocation to those who invoke Leviathan (Job 3:8) that they should…invoke him. In plain English, Job is asking them to summon up a great chaos-beast to undue the part of creation in which he was born. That is to say, good and evil are not the primary dualities in the rhetoric of Job but instead order and chaos. Here, Job takes the side of chaos—Leviathan—against God who brings order. The tension between order and chaos permeates the book but nowhere as heavily as in the whirlwind speech. The most memorable images from the whirlwind speech are the characterizations of Behemoth (40:15-24) and Leviathan (41:1-9). Some interpreters suggest that these are actually a hippo and a crocodile. They would be wrong. Yes, the aforementioned critters may be based on such animals, both kinds of which inhabited the Nile and would have been known to the Ancient Near East, but they are not natural beings. Instead they are chaos beasts—chaos personified as two great mythological beasts. It is in this identification that the rest of the whirlwind speech makes sense and builds up to these two beings.

Before I totally launch into this, I must give credit where it’s due—the insights on the whirlwind speech presented here are drawn from the work of Carol Newsom, a tremendous OT scholar, a great teacher for the church, and a heck of a nice person. Did I mention she’s an Anglican? Of course, this is my faulty appropriation of her work etc.

Although Job 40-41 get the most press (because they’re cool), the speech actually starts back in chapter 38. It starts with an overview of the architectural version of creation and questions whether Job has knowledge of these things (Job 38). Then it moves into a relatively odd section on animals and moves through the lion, raven, mountain goat, wild ass, wild ox, ostrich, horse, and hawk (Job 39). There is a significance to the choice of these animals; they are animals of the waste places. Check out Isa 34:8-18, one of the classic destruction oracles. Here Edom is laid waste and the sign of that is desert/wasteland creatures moving back into the ruins of the desolate city including the hawk, raven, and ostrich. The creatures described in Job 39 are essentially natural chaos beasts that lead up to the crescendo which is the presentation of the supernatural chaos beasts in 40 and 41.

The point, then, is this. God asks Job if he knows how creation happened and how things were done. He doesn’t. Then, God asks him if he knows all about and comprehends the place, nature, and role of various natural chaos beasts. He doesn’t. Then, God asks him if he is powerful enough to restrain—not necessarily destroy but restrain and domesticate—the great mythological chaos beasts. He can’t. According to this reading the point that God is making is that chaos is an inherent part of the created order. That is, even the duality between chaos and order that Job tries to set up in Job 3:8ff is a flawed one based on incomplete data. All of Job’s theological models are but flawed constructs in the face of the Living God. Not because of his evil—because narratively-speaking he’s sinless—but because of his created limitations and through his limited yet overly certain theological understandings Job has erred. He properly repents of these things not because of any fault but because he cannot, in fact, comprehend these things.

So—to recap again, what’s the author of Job suggesting with all of this? What’s the answer to why natural disasters and such occur? Because chaos is a part of creation; it’s built into the system. Is that an entirely satisfying answer? Well…no. But also notice what else it’s saying. It’s saying that natural events are not necessarily God “zapping” people. [Does God ever use natural events to zap people? Um…I’ll get back to you on that but I lean toward no…] Bad things don’t happen because somebody’s rules said they should nor do terrible circumstances indicate personal or social guilt. I think that it’s more important what is not being said here than what is being said.

So where does this leave us at the end of the day? Well, it leads us back to Luke. Yep—Luke 13:1-5. This is where the question is specifically put to Jesus—do bad things happen to bad people. His answer? Yes—bad things happen. But these should not be occasions for pointing fingers at the victims but to carefully consider the state of our own lives. Repentance is the appropriate response in the face of tragic human sin and natural/impersonal disasters alike. Did our sin cause them? No, not necessarily—but they still serve as great opportunities, as reminders, to repent. To our nation’s shame, the TV cameras have been doing a good job of keeping death daily before our eyes (RB 4.47). Our appropriate response should not be to blame God for letting such things happen but to repent of our sins, of our inaction, of our racism, of our classism, and of all other things that we do to sow hatred. Life is uncertain; death is inevitable. Let us do what we may do while the light of day yet shines upon us that, when night falls, we may be brought to the unceasing brilliance of the light eternal that shall never dim nor fade.

This started out as a comment on Caelius’s site but it mushroomed into a full-scale post so I’m putting it here. Check out his post on original sin and his response to my query for the background.

Okay–on the LXX (the Greek translation of the OT done in 2nd cent. BC Alexandria and used widely by the early church): the midrashic tradition from which it proceeds functions by beginning with God’s initial displeasure. That is, it returns to the question of why God accepted Abel’s offering and not Cain’s. Interpreters of the time suggested that Cain’s offering was rejected because he kept the good stuff for himself and offered up the bad stuff or committed some other sort of irregularity in the offering procedure. Thus, the division language has to do with what parts of the offering Cain assigned to himself and what he assigned to God. In this view, therefore, bad liturgy *is* responsible for the world’s first murder…

There is no doubt that the Masoretic (received Hebrew) text is corrupt here and this is one of the cases where the LXX is no help at all. This is most likely because of the anthropomorphized portrayal of sin–generally speaking, the LXX didn’t like anthropomorphizing in any way that could possibly suggest a multiplicity of gods and would gloss over it or retranslate it in a more monotheistic way. I don’t have the JPS version around–I’d love to see how they deal with it.

One of the reconstructions that I have heard takes sin lurking at the door (lie as in “lie in wait…”) and that the attraction between sin and man is the same as that between woman and man. The question then remains how to best configure the ruling verb. An Indo-European language itches to put it into the subjunctive and/or future and the differing treatments of the verb in the English versions reflect the different subjunctive options—especially choosing between an optative (may/might/be able), jussive (shall), or imperative (must) force. Jerome uses the future dominaberis suggesting either a simple future or a jussive. The kicker, of course, is that Hebrew doesn’t have a subjunctive; it doesn’t conceptualize time and probability that way with reference to verbs (and I haven’t used my Hebrew in so long that I shouldn’t try to identify the form without a reference work close at hand… If I had to guess it looks like qal imperfect which can have a future sense.).

So, to round out the translation issues, it seems fitting that Gen 3:16 and 4:7 ought to be translated in strict parallel. That is, the conjunctions ought to agree and the choice of the verb mood ought to agree. Note that my favorite whipping boy, the NRSV, fails miserably on this count by offering both a different conjunction and different moods. So which conjunction? How do the two statements about desire and ruling relate to one another? Should they be joined with an “and” or a “but”? Hebrew does not differentiate; both are viable options. I lean toward “but”, myself as it complicates things. :-) [Note here a classic example of the difficulty of the plain-sense reading—either choice is grammatically and logically possible…] Now, which verb? Given the overall tenor of 3:14-19, a simple future/jussive is the most logical. However, is this the most natural reading—the plain-sense—for 4:7? It does seem a bit more conditional despite the formal parallelism. Could the NRSV actually be right (for a change)?

Exegetically where does this get us? Well, there’s no doubt that there is a parallel construction in the Hebrew text between woman and sin. It’s not one that I especially like but we would be remiss in not identifying it and working with it to see what the exegetical options are. Eve has a lust for Adam but his calling is to rule over her. Sin has a lust for Cain but his calling is to rule over it. Chapter 3 suggests that these pronouncements should be read as generalities. Ergo, women or wives have a lust for their husbands but their calling is to rule over them; sin has a lust for men/husbands but their calling is to rule over it. [And yes, it’s most definitely “rule”–the verb is mshl, the same verb used in Gen 1 to talk about the sun and moon ruling over the day & night, etc. from whence cometh interesting but way off topic issues on rabbinic astrology…] So, are wives and sin to be conflated? I’m sure many patristic authors probably thought so. I don’t, of course. Furthermore, I think this connection is a direct contradiction of Gen 2:18-25. Husbands and wives—the two-person affection unit—is constructed for mutual support and assistance. They are to help one another. Sin does not and cannot do this. Sin cannot be conflated with the wife. Thus, another model is needed.

The model that emerges is the man in tension. On one side is his wife who lusts for him. On the other is sin, also lusting for him. Is his job to master them or to master himself in regard to them? Choosing the one and putting away the other; cleaving to one, rejecting the advances of the other. In fact, this construction parallels a great deal of the rhetoric of wisdom literature. If we personify our mapping a little more, the man stands pulled between his wife and the “other woman.” Proverbs goes into great detail personifying wisdom as the wise woman, the effective householder, the canny and competent wife. Folly is personified as the adulteress, the loose woman, the “other woman.”

Now, how do we interpret this text and make meaning of it for us. We don’t live in an officially patriarchal culture so some rereading and reconstructing must be done. (I suspect one of the reasons why so many of these texts were so patriarchal is because the women didn’t read and didn’t particularly care what was written. Obviously, neither is true today.) The way that I read it is that lust is the essential paradigm for sin. (Please note that this is totally different from saying that lust is original sin.) Just as two lovers feel lust—a passionate, non-rational desire for one another—so sin and humanity have a similar relationship. Classically sin in general and original sin in particular have been discussed as a thing towards which humans have an innate proclivity. What I find so interesting in this text is that it suggests that it’s a two-way street: sin personified has a proclivity for humanity as well—it’s an active thing that plays upon our desires, tempting and seducing us, not an inanimate thing to which we are drawn. As humans striving to be faithful we must master our own lusts and direct them to the appropriate object of our desire, the partner and helper with whom we become one. Furthermore, my reading of the paradigm would suggest that receiving help from the partner is an addition to mastering sin itself. Of course, in the background of all discussions of partners and helpers is the relationship between the soul and God of which the partner-relationship is a shadow.

There’s more here and this deserves more work but this is where it’s at for the moment.

I
Mea Culpa [whack] You know the drill…
I am heartily sorry for these my misdoings–especially those things left undone. I am truly sorry and I humbly repent. Yes, my new boss let us out early on Friday (yay!) and thus no random wacky Friday quiz. A big thanks to lutherpunk for picking up my slack…

btw–I’m Hades.

II
Dissecting Blame
Oh my, folks are just get started with the finger-pointing… That’s another sordid feature of disasters like these–people who know absolutely nothing about the situation spout off all sorts of verbal diarrhea about what wasn’t done, what was done, what was done half-heartedly and especially who’s to blame. Never one to sit by when an interesting conversation is going on–I thought I’d add my own uninformed drivel to the pile… [And just as a note, I haven’t been following the blame game so I’m spouting off on the top of my head here…It’ll be interesting to see which major faction my drivel sounds like. :-D]

Two words: States’ Rights. If you’ve ever spent time in the South, you know how important those words are to Southerners. After all, (just ask ’em) the War Between the States wasn’t about slaves, racism, etc.; it was about States’ Rights. The power of the Old Democrat party (i.e., pre-LBJ) in the South was about…States’ Rights. In a political system like ours there is an inevitable and I would argue necessary tension between Federalism and national responsibilities as opposed to States’ Rights and local responsibilities. Although Federalism essentially prevailed in the US, there’s still quite a bit of power at the other levels and the existence of Congress–both houses–is constructed to inject local politics into the Federal level.

All that having been said, I think Bush’s response sucked. It was really bad. But the scope of the disaster was not fundamentally his responsibility. That is, he acted as a poor leader in this time of crisis, but I do not blame him for the crisis. I think that there are two major failures here and lessons to be learned.

First, I see this as a failure at the state and local levels. They were the people who lived there–they knew what needed to be done. It’s not as if Louisiana has no Congress-dudes [that’s the correct gender-neutral form, fyi] to lobby for money for construction projects. This is a problem that can and should have been corrected a while ago. Furthermore, the local leadership–didn’t. The inevitable comparison does kinda make this apt. In New York, things held together; in New Orleans, they didn’t. There are a host of factors and differences between the two especially the breakdown in communications (such a shame that disaster crews don’t have *satellite* phones that can’t get knocked out if cell towers go down…) but Rudi was there, was visible, and held things together until more help could arrive. Who was there in New Orleans? Who took control? Who could people look to as a voice of authority who was willing to speak the truth to the people and inspire them in the face of tragedy? From my dry armchair it appears that superior leadership produced superior results.

Second, I really worry about what has happened to the homeland defense moneys allocated after Setpember 11. Let’s face it, with the amount of money parcelled out there ought to have been plans in place. New Orleans should have been thinking about what to do if terrorists went after the levees in addition to hurricanes. Supposedly they ran a drill not to long ago. What gives? Makes you wonder how that money was spent…To put a finer point on it, I sure hope that the officials in my area know what the hell they’re supposed to do in case of emergency. And I hope that they clue us in too…

III
Dissertation Progress
I got a hold of this History of OE Lit over the weekend. Good stuff. Lots of good bibliography in there to shore up parts I feel weakest in. One of the epiphanies is the realization of just how much of the OE corpus was designed to be fundamentally oral. From to poems to the sermons, I’d say the vast majority of it was oral literature rather than written. I wonder what that means…

IIII
And (a) Justice for All [a great album too, btw!]
Rehnquist. Oh boy. Yes, this sure is a liberal’s worst nightmare–W gets to pick two justices… As I thought before, though, I think that the court is too aware of its own importance to really run amok in one direction or another. I believe (and truly hope) that no matter who gets put on it that the court will shuffle itself in order to remain centrist.

Let me preface this by admitting that, yes, I’m one of few Anglicans I know who votes Republican. Not always–but often. I believe that a strong corporate sector is a benefit to society as a whole. Remember, corporate America isn’t just a horde of faceless automatons powered by greed, it’s the way that we create and maintain a decent standard of living for the majority–though not all, of course–of Americans. Corporations do need to be called to account and the best way to do it is with our checkbooks, not legislation. Or at least a judicious blend. Certainly legislation alone is not the answer. No, we have to think about what we buy and how we spend our money and also to be vocal about our spending choices.

That having been said, what are you doing now to reduce your use of fossil fuels? The loss of life in New Orleans and the cultural losses in and around that city are dire; these should be our foremost and immediate concerns. There may well be a long-term warning here too (in addition to lessons about building below sea level…). Another thing that this emergency is doing is demonstrating once again American over-dependence upon fossil fuels. The most obvious sign is the dramatic and drastic rise in the price of gas. I hate to see what heating is going to be like this winter. Part of this is due to the refineries in the Deep South, the importance of NO as an oil port, and also the destruction of oil rigs in the gulf. Another significant factor is fear–the oil companies and others know that we know this and can play on our fear.

Some of the academic bloggers have been recently writing quite a bit about the notion of peak oil and the current energy situation. Yes, I still call it a situation rather than a crisis because I don’t think it is at a crisis point yet. But neither should we be actively helping it reach the crisis point. So…what are you doing about it?

Now, the answer to this problem does not solely with Detroit/Tokyo/Seoul or with the way we use our cars although this is obviously a big part of the equation. But how about your lighting? How does that electricity get made after all? And what is that material that your fingers are on right now and that surrounds your monitor? Hmmm, plastic isn’t it…Ya know, that stuff really doesn’t grow on trees…

Naturally, I’m not asking this because I *have* an answer. But it is something that we seriously need to think about. What can we do and what are we doing?

I can’t say anything more that has not already been said; others have covered events far better than I am capable of doing. Nevertheless, here’s a link and a prayer:

O God, whose fatherly care reacheth to the uttermost parts of the earth: We humbly beseech thee graciously to behold and bless those whom we love, now absent from us. Defend them from all dangers of soul and body; and grant that both they and we, drawing nearer to thee, may be bound together by thy love in the communion of thy Holy Spirit, and in the fellowship of thy saints; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

I’ve been reading a lot of material on early medieval monastic education to prepare for writing chapter 2. It’s interesting stuff and all, but I keep getting the sense that many of the scholars are dropping the ball on an important point. The chief writings in view are Godden’s great article on glossed texts, the big book on Priscian’s Excerptiones, the Colloquies of Ælfric and Ælfric Bata (the shorter, rowdier, and generally more drunken student of the first), and Gretch’s work on the intellectual inheritance of the Benedictine Reform which goes a long way to suggest that Æðelwold was the author of the Vespasian Psalter glosses.

Conventional wisdom is that little Anglo-Saxon oblates and novices learned Latin by means of memorizing colloquies (a process that involves being beaten on a regular basis it seems) and working through a text like Ælfric’s Grammar which is essentially an English edition of the Priscian abridgement. The problem is that these things—the colloquies and Grammar—seem far more like intermediate studies than basic ones. They didn’t start with these works. Clear evidence for this is in the preface to Æflric’s Grammar where it is assumed that the students have read Donatus (unless I’m translating that wrong—which is possible). The other issue here is that nobody seems to be mentioning the elephant in the middle of the room. Or, because they’re scholars, they’re so busy checking out the floorboards they completely missed the elephant: the Psalms.

These little monklings are singing all 150 every week. This is how basic language acquisition is happening. Because of the Divine Offices they’re committing huge amounts of Latin to memory. They have no idea what it means, of course, but it puts huge swathes of vocabulary and grammar examples into their heads to be mined at a basic level of education. Am I missing something here? Surely this has been mentioned somewhere in this literature…

Other thing: Three of the standard texts used as school books (pace Godden) are Arator, Juvencus, and Sedilius. That is, a paraphrase of Acts and two of the Gospels/story of Jesus. I wonder what practical effect this had on hermeneutics? I’m guessing essentially none; these served more to reinforce the narratives that should already have been in their heads and to give them a better sense of Latin styling. Exegetically I don’t think they gave them anything hermeneutically more than reinforcing the notion of the story of Christ and the Early Church as an epic.

Update: Wanna hear something off the hook? I just tallied it up–with the additions from the Regularis Concordia–the monastic customary written by Bishops Æðelwold and Dunstan to supplement and guide the impementation of Benedict’s Rule–there were 35 psalms that were read at least once a day. Add further that each of the 7 penetential psalms were sung at least four times a day with Psalm 51 being sung 8 times! That’s 28% of the Psalter that was sung every single day. How’s that for repetition!?!

Sarah Dylan Breuer left a good follow-up comment down on the previous post about pressures the *other way* in looking for a clergy job. Fundamentally, it comes down to expectations. Parishes have them and they want their clergy to meet them no matter how contradictory they are… In light of that reality, I’ve decided to relieve vestries, call committees, and others of part of the burdensome process of writing a clergy wanted ad. I’ve helpfully done it for them, all they need to do is cut and paste.

Qualifications to be a Priest/Pastor/Minister [choose one] at [your church name here]

[Church name here] is a loving, inclusive parish who offers a warm and hearty welcome to all people who come through our doors! And are just like us.

We are seeking a clergy person. We aren’t picky and will take anyone who loves the Lord and the people of God. Here are a few necessary qualifications.

The applicant as a family person:

• We accept both male and female applicants for this position.
• If you are a woman you shouldn’t look too…”feminist.” You know what we mean.
• Applicant should be married and have strong “family values”.
• Should have a successful, caring, supportive spouse who is used to not seeing their partner for weeks at a time and has no problem with this.
• Should have a strong family life. Seven to ten perfectly behaved children preferable. At least six should be the couple’s biological children.
• One should be a baby who never cries or makes noises unless the altar guild ladies think it’s an appropriate time to be “cute”.
• It would be cool if one was an orphan adopted from Somalia and the family went over and rescued the poor child in a harrowing escapade of heroism that could be told whenever the Baptist down the street brags about his mission trip to Mexico.
• This heroic escapade was accomplished while only taking off one day. In the middle of the week.
• In short—be kinda like that guy on “Seventh Heaven” but without the drama. ‘Cause this isn’t a sit com, you know.

The applicant’s finances/class:

• Should be independently wealthy and should feel that it’s totally unreasonable for the parish to have to pay for benefits.
• Should come from a decent middle-class family–maybe a “Everybody Loves Raymond” kind of family–so nobody feels wierd around them.
• Should know which fork to use, special French phrases to use at certain events, and know what sort of wine pairs with everything from oysters-on-the-half-shell to hotdish.
• Should exhibit a preferential option for the poor as commanded by the Gospel.
• Shouldn’t make awkward suggestions about how parishioners choose to spend their money.
• Should be a snappy dresser and have a nice house suitable for entertaining.
• But nothing you own really ought to be nicer than what parishioners have because, hey, we’re paying you (when the checks clear) to pray–not to buy fancy things.

The applicant’s experience:

• Should have at least one academic degree above the MDiv. Everybody else’s minister has an MDiv—we deserve something a bit more.
• Should have a minimum of 10 years in the non-profit development field to take some heat of the Stewardship committee.
• Should have about 10 years in corporate management to know how to run the church properly and to be able to relate to the office-worker types in the congregation.
• Should have a few years’ experience as a factory or migrant worker. This is desirable to earn credibility with the blue-collar folks in the parish and with liberals who think it’s cool and who often thought about doing just that but haven’t gotten around to it yet.
• Should be between 27 and 33 years of age and still have loads of fresh new insights.
• But shouldn’t dress like those punk kids do. Tattoos and body piercings are right out.
• Unless those punk kids think that kind of thing is cool and will come on Sundays both washed and groomed.
• And speaking of those punk kids, the applicant should have sufficient experience with youth to be able to explain how free love and psychotropic drug use was really cool when the youth’s parents did it and reinforce that the youth’s parents are still hip and cool but communicate clearly that such things are no longer cool and should not be done, period.

The applicant’s ministry skills:

• Liturgically, should be open to and competent in a wide range of worship styles.
• Should be able to execute on five minutes’ notice (when *that* set of relatives is in town) a full-on solemn high mass properly including skillful use of the censer (using a non-allergenic, non-offensive incense that certainly shouldn’t affect anyone’s asthma but have a great scent. Maybe something like fabric softener.), chanting a gospel while correctly pointing it on the fly, and an amazing ability to wear gorgeous vestments that match both the liturgical season and the flowers on the altar. Should also have personally assured that all vestments, linens, and acolytes are properly and crisply ironed.
• Should not be overly nit-picky or uptight about liturgical matters.
• Should be able to sense when Evangelical friends critical of “mainline Protestant” worship are in the sanctuary and execute a perfect low mass, preaching a fiery thirty minute sermon that convicts all present of their sin while making them feel really good about themselves and accompanying one of the hymns on guitar and harmonica.
• All services will be exactly 55 minutes so that parishioners can beat the Baptists to the restraunts
• Should spend at least 20 hours a week in personal and hospital visitation.
• Should spend at least 20 hours a week preparing thoughtful sermons.
• Should spend at least 20 hours a week in thoughtful reflection for a new inspirational book or something like that Rick Warren guy so we can brag about going to your church at cocktail parties.
• Should spend at least 20 hours a week in bold and open acts of evangelism and faith-sharing to grow the church rapidly.
• But not evangelism in that tacky way.
• Should have a robust personal prayer life.
• Should be attendant upon family or personal emergencies at any hour of the day or night within 5 minutes of receiving the call in immaculate clergy dress with appropriate pastoral composure.
• Should have several Bible studies at times that are convenient for me. Not that I’m *going* to come but I certainly ought to be able to come if I want.
• Should have a strong stance on and be willing to speak out strongly on “family values.” And use that phrase the way *I* do—not like those other people, especially that one group in the congregation (you know who I mean).
• Should be open, inclusive, and tolerant.
• Should not associate with the wrong kind of people.

  [page turn…]

Warning: I am updating this occasionally as I realize I’ve forgotten things…