Sunday, December 21, 2008

The Indestructible Writings

October 14, 1962
Rochester

Sermon Series: Our Judeo-Christian Heritage
5. The Indestructible Writings

Not only has the impact of law from our Judeo-Christian heritage ordered our institutional structures; not only has the great prophetic influence ever urged us forward toward the selves we might be; but also the indestructible writings have branded our expressions, clarified our goals and helped us to look with honesty at man and his ways in the universe. If the books of the law can be considered legal, although of course this is an inadequate word for them; if the prophetic books can be called inspirational; the Writings can be classified as literary. The word, “literary,” does not encompass their fullness and diversity. But the ancient Hebrews called these books the Writings, the Ketubim.

The Writings are classified (see Harper’s Bible Dictionary) 1) the Poetical books – Psalms, Proverbs, Job. 2) The Rive Scrolls (Megilloth): Song of Solomon, Ruth, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes, Esther. 3) Histories: Ezra, Nehemiah, and Chronicles.

The Hebrews came to believe that sacred scripture should include more than Law and the Prophets. The Writings came into accepted form gradually, over a period of hundreds of years. Ernest Trattner pointed out, (UNRAVELLING THE BOOK OF BOOKS, P. 184), “... in here is a vast and interesting mixture of all sorts of things coming from many different ages. It is a grab bag containing moral philosophy, hymns, dirges, romances, proverbs, psalms, idylls, love songs, apocalypses – all massed together.”

This extensive body of literature has inestimable literary value and should be justly honored for its contribution to our culture by being more widely read by adults. However there is an influential trend within the Christian churches which makes it important to understand the origins and purposes of the writings. This development is the rebirth of Bible Theology.

Bible Theology is the proposition that essentially the Bible is a united book, telling a single story – the salvation plan that God built into the world. A Christian believer in Bible Theology sees Jesus as the Christ who divides history into the Old Covenant and the New Covenant – the Fall of Man in Adam’s sin; the redemption of man when God in Christ dies an atoning death for mankind’s sins and triumphs over death by his resurrection from the tomb. In our discussion of the Judeo-Christian heritage, we must return again and again to this old story of salvation.

Bible Theology finds prophecies, fore-runners, allegories, omens in all Old Testament books and interprets (usually awkwardly) these as signs in the salvation plan.

When the scholarly discipline of Bible criticism first established its place a century ago, Universalists and Unitarians generally and easily found themselves among those who came to see the Bible, not as one book with one salvation scheme, but as a library of 66 books, written in different times, by different authors, with different purposes and of vastly different value. This historical and literary interpretation of the Bible we still espouse today.

But Bible Theology as a faith about history, as contrasted to the history of faith, has achieved a position of restored strength in the Christian churches generally. Sometimes called “neo-orthodoxy,” the theory asserts that “theology must be controlled by the life, world and faith of the Bible.”

Because of the unceasing controversies about the place of religion in public schools, and other public institutions as well, it becomes of great importance for us to come to convictions about what religion is – or better still, what religions are.

There is unbounded need to demonstrate that our religious heritage is diverse, not unitary. The prevailing pressures to continue prayers and scripture readings in public schools are current examples of the false notion that there is a clear, emphatic and uncontradicted truth in our Judeo-Christian culture. Furthermore, the exhortations urge that unless this “pure” message is preached daily in the public classrooms, we are in grave danger of adopting all manner of evil, or so we are told.

Theseus, the mythological Greek hero, encountered the evil Procrustes. Procrustes had an iron bedstead on which he used to tie all travelers who fell into his hands. If they were shorter than the bed, he stretched the victim. If the victim was too long, Procrustes chopped off enough to make the body fit the bed. The indestructible writings not only communicate a “variety of religious experience,” but also the reader who takes time to consider the printed page usually concludes that only by subjecting the scriptures to Procrustean stretch or Procrustean amputation can one affirm that there is contained [there]in a clear, unquestioned doctrine of either man or god.

Not the solidarity of doctrine, but the presentation of human experience in literature of matchless quality, is the superb gift we have received from the writings.

The Psalms comprise the songbook of Judaism. David was not the author, although it is possible that some of the ancient lines may be his, or date from his time. The Psalms were revised and rewritten, their composition covering several centuries in the times before the Christian Era when the temple still stood. The Psalms are the most well-known devotional literature in the entire Judeo-Christian world. The 23rd Psalm is a great comfort to millions in either good times or bad; the 46th Psalm was the inspiration to Martin Luther when he composed the greatest hymn of the Reformation, “A Mighty Fortress is our God.” But the Psalms are not limited to expressions of faith in a God strong to save. There are psalms breathing hate and revenge (#10, 55, 58, 69, 109). There is interspersed within shepherd songs of faith, psalms that pray that infant children of the Babylonians have their heads bashed open by swinging the babies against a wall (137). Thus, like life experience in any age, the important is never completely free from the trivial, the beautiful from the ugly, the moral from the immoral. The glory of the psalms is not sustained by the consistency of theology, but by the awareness that men in hard times can sing great songs of courage and trust. We should not be dismayed that revenge and narrowness of spirit creep in – because these feelings steal into our lives too.

Consider Ecclesiastes, the preacher: Here is an example where great literary creation is a formidable obstacle to easy ideas of faith. Ecclesiastes (Koheleth the Preacher), is a melancholy agnostic, gentle and wise. (1/14): “I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind.” Although he comprehends no transcendent purpose in the universe, his wisdom reflects decent morality and ethics established by unapologetic humanism. He speaks of child-training, the evils of drunkenness, the wisdom of work and prudential behavior. The impact of the biblical expressions of Ecclesiastes on our language has been considerable, even though theologically, Ecclesiastes is no comfort to those who need to believe in an immortal life and no help to those who must see divine purpose running through all events and ages. Ethics are emphasized, even though pessimism is central in Ecclesiastes.
(7/1) “A good name is better than precious oil...”
(9/10) “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might.”
(9/18) “Wisdom is better than the weapons of war.”

There is not the slightest hint of enthusiastic faith in Ecclesiastes. Those who insist that a consistent theology runs through the Old Testament just ignore this plain-spoken book.

When one turns to Proverbs, one encounters a vast collection of the wisdom of the ancient Near-East. Two things are reasonable certain about the Proverbs. First, Solomon did not write them; second, the Proverbs comprise several collections from different dates. There may be isolated bits from great antiquity, and it is possible that Solomon may have coined some of these mint specimens of human wisdom, but more important is to appreciate both the insight into human nature that the Proverbs possess and the impression on our culture that they have made.
(14/34) “Righteousness exalteth a nation;
But sin is a reproach to any people.”
(16/8) “Better is a little with righteousness
Than great revenues with injustice.”
(28/1) “The wicked flee when no man pursueth
But the righteous are as bold as a lion.”

The [Book of] Proverbs is not a doctrinal text book, but a sourcebook for insights into human relations.
(15/16) “Better is a dinner of herbs where love is
Than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.”

To consider briefly another book of the great writings, it is even less likely that Solomon wrote the collection of love lyrics called the “Song of Solomon,” or the “Song of Songs.” Throughout Christian times, there have been labored theological interpretations of this collection of love songs garnished with erotic imagery. How does one accept in theological structure this early poetry which originated either in early fertility cults, ancient Near-Eastern love songs or both? Christianity accepted the love song in the book of Christian faith by interpreting the verses as an allegory of the love of Christ and the Church. Christ was allegorized as the bridegroom and the Church as the bride. The theology is not persuasive.

To consider the book of Ruth as anything but a delightful and pointed ancient romance is to do injustice to one of mankind’s great short novels. Simply and charmingly written, it was an answer to racial bigotry then and can be a lesson today. With great art, the unknown author controverted the prejudice that foreign blood was evil. By portraying Ruth as an ancestor of David, the emphatic point was made that in the veins of the great King ran the blood of a Moabite woman. When Mahlon died, the husband of Ruth, the son of Naomi, the mother prepared to return to Judah. Ruth the Moabite widow utters the imperishable words, (1/16)
“Entreat me not to leave thee and to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest, I will go and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people and thy God, my God.”

The international flavor of Ruth is abruptly contrasted by the intensely nationalistic novel of Esther. Under the pressure of probable persecution by one of the Persian emperors, this book breathes a spirit of vindictiveness. When the famous council of Hebrew rabbis and scholars convened as Jamnia in 100 a.d. to settle the matter of which books were canonical, the book of Esther was one of several, including Ecclesiastes and the Song of Songs, which were admitted as authorized scripture only after prolonged argument.

Of all the writings, Jonah is the best known, but fame is wrongly based. The fish story is trivial, but the book of Jonah, as an example of high level goals and thinking, is a superb testimony to the equality and unity of the whole human family.

Jonah, a self-righteous man who despised foreigners and thought it ridiculous that God should have any concern for foreigners, is shown that all person count. Anyone who holds the notion that our Judaic heritage, prior to Jesus and Paul was that of a narrow, chosen covenant people, from which others were excluded, should read Jonah and be enlightened.

In the last few years, Job, the literary masterpiece of the Bible has become better known because Archibald McLeish wrote the fine, modern dramatization of Job, J.B. Job deals with the agonizing problems of unmerited suffering. Later editors emended Job to soften the impact of the bare, blunt questions Job posed. The poetry is matchless, the imagery superb. As McLeish demonstrated, Job’s agony could be a cry in modern times. Whether your views are conventional, strongly traditional, intensely modern or deeply rebellious, you will confront the human experience of man in the universe in the magnificent drama of Job.

The Judeo-Christian heritage is one of religious greatness, interspersed always by a weakness and choice of lesser goods. Great religions cannot be stuffed into a single mold – even when that mold is called “Bible Theology.”

What is universal about the Writings (and the Law and Prophets too) is not doctrine, for we have seen there is no universal doctrine. What is universal and timeless are people in sorrow and job, love and hate, life and death. There is the sensualism of the Song of Songs, the agnosticism of Ecclesiastes, the courageous despair of Job, the mixed moods of the Psalms, the nationalism of Esther, the appreciation for the foreign born of Ruth, the strange and compelling visions of Daniel, the universalism of Jonah.

The writings are human. They tell of the grandeur and misery of men and women in human situations of hope and fear, kindness and anger, assurance and anguish, patriotism and rebellion, content and discontent, great heights of achievement, low levels of failure.

In her biography of John Calvin, Professor Georgia Harkness commented (p. 7) “The Pref[ace] (of Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion) is a letter to Francis I of France, protesting against his persecution of the Protestants, and is a masterpiece of apologetic literature. It is courteous, logical and to the point – and Beza pathetically remarks that if Francis had only read it, it could not have failed to win him from the errors of his courses....”

If he had only read it – there should be concern that so many adults no longer voluntarily read the great literature of our culture, rather than uniformed insistence that children be subjected involuntarily to prayers composed by Regents, Legion Posts, or clergymen.

If there is any pre-dominant theme in this library of diverse literature we call the Bible, it is moral, not theological. When one sees the stories unfold, primitive or advanced, poetry or prose, song of love or hate, there comes a prevailing emphasis of the superiority of a moral basis for humanity. Perhaps these lines from Proverbs are an appropriate summary of the moral themes: (3/13 to 18)

“Happy is the man that findeth wisdom
And the man that getteth understanding.
For the gaining of it is better than the gaining of silver,
And the profit thereof than fine gold.
She is more precious than rubies:
And none of the things thou canst desire are to be compared unto her.
Length of days is in her right hand;
In her left hand are riches and honor.
Her ways are ways of pleasantness,
And all her paths are peace.
She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her;
And happy is every one that retaineth her.”

The Writings have a great gift for the willing reader. They will widen his understanding of human virtue and vice; they bring home to him from the printed page the range of emotions people feel, the depths to which they can fall, the heights to which they can rise. It may come home to the reader that (in Matthew Arnold’s words,) “The object of religions is conduct,” that conduct is not possible of understanding, except through the experiences and ways of human beings.

Carl Sandburg caught the spirit of the Writings when he told an anecdote about Bill Greene, Lincoln’s helper at the store in New Salem, Illinois. (See Carl Sandburg, THE PRAIRIE YEARS, p. 56). Bill Greene was on the witness stand, “when a lawyer asked him who were the principal citizens of New Salem, answered, ‘There are no principal citizens; every man in New Salem neighborhood is a principal citizen.’”

This underlies all the diversity of scripture, too. Every man is a principal citizen.

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