Friday, July 23, 2010

Function

When we hear that God created, we have a tendency to think that God made something out of nothing. This is because of our western heritage and is reflected in the gospel of John, which says, “Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.”

However, in Old Testament times, the primary idea of creation was not making something out of nothing, but bringing order out of chaos by assigning function. For example, Enki and the World Order, a Sumerian story from before 2000 B.C., tells of the way the creator god brought order to the zones of the earth by assigning them functions such as agriculture or engineering. In the same way, Genesis 1 tells us that God made two big lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. Those are their functions.

When God created humans, he gave them a purpose, a function, a destiny. He said, “Let us make man in our image, in our likeness, and let him rule over the fish, the livestock, the birds, and the wild animals.” God created man with the purpose of dominion. It’s our job to care for creation, right from the start.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Image of God

In Gen. 1, we’re told that we were created in the image of God. Much ink has been spilled about what it means to be created in the image of God. To the philosopher, it means we’ve been endowed with the ability to reason and to use logic. To the artist, it means we’ve been given creativity and the ability to appreciate beauty. In fact, we have a tendency to create a meaning for “the image of God” in our own image.

But what would ancient Israelites likely think about when they heard they were made in the “image of God?” Well, when ancient kings would go conquering, in order to extend their dominion beyond their own borders, they would often have an image of themselves set up in the temple of the town they conquered.
For example, this nearly life-sized statue was found in an ancient temple. It tells us that it’s the image and likeness of the king, used to represent his rule or dominion in the foreign land. From an ancient near eastern perspective, to be told that we’re created in the image and likeness of God is to be told that we are God’s little statues, that he has placed on the earth as a representation of his dominion. When tells Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply, he’s saying, “YOU statue of God, extend my dominion, my sovereignty, into the furthest reaches of the earth.”

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

I AM

When did Jesus claim to be God? I mean, it's easy to think of passages where other people called him God (especially Paul), but when did Jesus make the claim himself?

Well, I’ll give you an example, but to do so I have to go back to the beginning. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and void, and the spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the deep.” The image is one of a watery chaos, a common starting point for ancient Near Eastern creation stories. For example, in the Babylonian creation story, a god has to do battle against the watery chaos. In the Bible creation story, God is simply hovering over the waters, the way a mother hen would hover over her eggs… Fast forward to Exodus 3. When Moses asks God his name, God says, “I AM has sent you.” Fast forward again, this time to Exodus 33. After the miraculous release from slavery, after the Israelites have received torah at Mount Sinai, while wandering around the wilderness, Moses says to God, “Show me your glory.” So God tells Moses, “When I pass you by, you will see my glory.” Fast forward one last time, to the time of Jesus, when he sends his disciples out on the lake. The weather turns sour, the waves kick up, the disciples are straining at the oars, and there’s Jesus, strolling on the lake. He was about to pass by them, but they got terrified, and he stops and says “Take courage! I AM. Don’t be afraid!”

Jesus takes the image of the spirit of God hovering over the watery chaos, the image of God passing by Moses, and he calls himself, “I AM.” Put all that together and, well…you get the point.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Lights


In the ancient near east, the sun and the moon were considered deities. This is a picture of the sun god that dates from the neo-Babylonian period, roughly the 9th century B.C. In front of the deity is his symbol, the sun disc, and the king is being led in before the god in order to worship him. In ancient near eastern creation stories, after an introductory description of the watery chaotic state, the first thing the main god would create is other gods, and it’s important to remember that in the ancient near east, the sun and the moon are deities. But what happens in Genesis? Right at the point where other creation stories tell about the creation of other deities, we’re told that God created two great lights, a greater light and a lesser light, and that he set them in the expanse of the sky. What we have to notice is that the sun and the moon are not named. Why? Because to name them would sound an awful lot like the big god is creating lesser gods, namely the sun and moon. Why? Because the words ‘sun’ and ‘moon’ are the names of other gods. Right away, we’re told that God didn’t need to create lesser gods to help him organize and govern the universe.

To us, maybe that doesn’t mean much, but to an ancient near eastern mind, this is radical.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Rephaim

In the O.T. there are these characters called the Rephaim. They are the “shades of the dead,” deceased heroes of old. Spoken of in other ancient near eastern cultures, as well as in the Old Testament, they are sort of like the Undead Army in the Lord of the Rings. In Ugaritic, a language similar to Hebrew, texts dating from near the time of Moses tell of the Rephaim:

“Come, O man of the funeral feast, to my house,
O Rephaim, into my house I invite you, I call you,
O divine ones, to my temple.”
After him the Rephaim surely come,
After him verily come the divine ones.”

As you can see, in Ugaritic the Rephaim were treated as though they were divine.


From a later period, roughly the 5th century B.C., Phoenician texts such as this sarcophagus—a stone, human-shaped coffin—speak of the Rephaim, warning away grave robbers. “And if you open my cover and disturb me, may you have no offspring among the living under the sun or a resting place with the Rephaim.”

With this backdrop in mind, take a look at how the bible talks about the Rephaim. Proverbs 9 says that Lady Folly “sits at the door of her house calling out to those who pass by. But the one who listens does not know that the Rephaim are there, that her guests are in the depths of the grave.”

Of course, God alone has the power to raise the dead, to bring to life the Rephaim and those who keep their company. As Isaiah says, “Oh, let Your dead revive! Let corpses arise! Awake and shout for joy, you who dwell in the dust! [Lord,] You make the land of the Rephaim come to life.”

Friday, July 16, 2010

British Open


The British Open is at St. Andrews this week. I was at St. Andrews last summer for a conference (Genesis and Christian Theology) and since the town doesn't have any trespassing laws I went strolling along the course, including a quick walk across Swilcan Bridge, estimated to be some 700-800 years old. Truly a magnificent place.