September 2007


The memorial service for Brevard Childs was held yesterday at Yale Divinity School. It was a very moving tribute to Childs. Leander Keck, professor of NT and Childs’s long-time friend, gave a twenty minute eulogy on Childs, his scholarship, and his effect on the field of biblical studies. In a fitting ending, he spoke of Childs himself now having attained his own “final canonical form.” Also participating in the service were Robert Wilson, Carolyn Sharp, and Dean Harold Attridge.

It was good to see a number of friends and former classmates who had come for the service. Steve Cook and Judy Fentress-Williams came up from Virginia Theological Seminary, while Richard Hayes and Steve Chapman flew from Duke. Best of all, I also got to see Susan Olson, a classmate from seminary who is now the director of career services and lecturer in practical theology1 at the divinity school, as well as being one of the university chaplains. Thanks for lunch, Susan!

For me, the service was a time to remember Childs and the effect he had on my formation. It was also an encouragement to continue in scholarship. During this time when I am not employed in the field, it has been difficult for me to find the time or energy to engage in scholarship. Hearing people talk about Bard and his dedication reminded me why I enjoy this field so much. It renewed my spirit and enthusiasm for biblical studies.

The school had invited people to contribute to a book of remembrances that was presented to his wife, Ann Childs. They had it available for people to read before the service. One person shared a memory of Childs that encapsulated quite well how Childs approached biblical studies:

I remember in one class, a student came to Childs and asked him how to write a deeper exegesis paper. Childs replied, “If you want to write a deeper exegesis paper, become a deeper person.”

For Bard, any study of the Bible that did not profoundly affect the student was useless.


  1. Personally, I have never been convinced that the words practical and theology can be used in the same sentence. [back]

Yesterday on NPR, I heard and interview with the humanist chaplain of Harvard University.  I didn’t catch his name, but their website lists Greg Epstein as the chaplain, so I assume this was he.

Before I start, I want to point out that this is not a tirade against secular humanism as such.  The idea of the evil secular humanists who are out to destroy religion is a favorite bogeyman of the religious right.  Such a creature rarely exists outside of the imagination of some evangelicals.  I personally have no problem with most of the tenants of humanism, and I would probably call myself a Christian humanist.

But Epstein said a couple of things yesterday with which I disagreed and one with which I have serious issues.

To begin with what he said that caused me serious consternation, he said that there is nothing wrong with humanists taking parts of religious festivals and using them for humanist purposes.  Now, while I have no problem with humanists having rituals to celebrate whatever they choose, I do have a problem with those who feel free to steal from the culture of others for their own benefit.

What he is advocating would be something akin to me holding a Seder, even though I am not Jewish.  I will happily attend a Seder when invited by Jewish friends, but for me to hold my own would be improper.  I am not Jewish.  My faith is part of the same family tree as Judaism, but that tree branched 2000 years ago.  And a Seder is so much a part of Jewish identity that it is wrong for Christians to cannibalize it.  I would not want a synagogue to hold a Eucharistic service, since doing so would take the Lord’s Supper and strip it of its central meaning.1

I know that such things do happen. We live in such a buffet culture that we feel we should be allowed to take what we like from each religion and build our own.  But such a model raises the individual above the community.  Each community of faith has the right to decide its own rituals, and other communities should not feel they have the right to take things from other communities, strip them of their essential meaning, and reinvent them for themselves.  Religions learn a lot from each other, but rituals are so central that they should not be treated as swappable parts.

A couple of other things raised my hackles.  One was that Epstein referred to atheist Jews and atheist Christians.  Presumably he meant atheists who were once Jewish or Christian but do not practice anymore.  This term is highly problematic, especially for Christians.  While Jewish is both a religious and ethnic designation, Christian is not.  Once one ceases to believe as a Christian, one no longer has the right to be called a Christian.  You may be an ex-Christian who is an atheist, but you are not a Christian atheist.

The other thing was his statement that we, as humans, need to realize that all the strength we need is within ourselves if only we would realize it.  From a pastoral standpoint, I have serious problems with this statement.  Telling someone who is at the end of their rope and being crushed under the weight of life that they just need to realize that they are strong enough is little more than telling someone to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.  It would probably push many people into deeper depth of despair when they feel that they do not have the strength.  The message they would hear is, “Everyone else is strong enough to handle life, but I am not.”  Such a philosophy offers little hope.

Granted, we do not decide which theology is correct based on which one offers us hope.  But humanists (including Epstein yesterday) criticize religion for abuse.  To me, telling someone who needs help that they just need to find the strength within themselves is abusive.  The message of Christ that His strength manifests itself when we are weak is a much more pastoral response.  And I believe this not because it makes me feel better but because I have experienced it.


  1. Yes, I am aware that the Lord’s Supper is related to and derived from a Seder. [back]

Ahoy, mates! For those o’ ye who have not heard, today be International Talk Like a Pirate Day. So don’t be a bilge rat! Grab some grog from th’ bung hole and dance a hornpipe. If ye di’na wish t’ be keel hauled — and I warrent ye di’na — start droppin’ a few salty phrases into yer chatter.

Arrrrrr you ready, kids?

Although I enjoy games, I have never ventured into the collectible card games such as Pokeman. There are some thing I think would be interesting, such as Anachronism, which features historical cultures like the Assyrians, Babylonians, Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans. This past Saturday, however, I happened upon Redemption at my local Christian bookstore.1

Redemption is similar to the other trading card games. You begin with starter decks and then modify your decks by trading with other players and buying expansion packs. But Redemption is based on the Bible. Each card represents a character from the Bible (both humans and angles/demons), an enhancement (faith, hope, tears for a friend, etc.), a site (Jerusalem, Roman prison, Babylonian exile, etc.), or a lost soul. The goal of the game is to use your heroes to fight the other player’s evil characters in order to redeem a lost soul. The first person who redeems five lost souls wins.

My son and I have played a few games so far. From a gaming standpoint, it seems to be enjoyable. What I am finding even more entertaining is the theological aspect.

Part of it is just plain fun. I love being able to send Jeremiah up against Ahaziah or Paul up against Nebuchadnezzar. Then I play the ark of the covenant card to enhance my hero’s powers, but my son counters by sending locust against me. Such fun! The expansion packs are also cool: Patriarchs, Priests, Prophets, Apostles, etc. I find the expansion pack “Women” to be a bit odd. Why women have to be separate is beyond me. Fortunately, the women are just as powerful as the men. Job’s wife, for instance, is a formidable evil character, while Ruth is a strong hero.

One aspect that is somewhat odd is the fact that you control not only good characters but evil ones as well. This is necessitated by the set up of the game. The only other option, I suppose, would be to have one player be the good characters while the other was evil. This would lead to one player trying to redeem the lost souls while the other tried to wrest them away once they had been saved. I doubt this would have gone over well with the “Once saved, always saved” crowd.

As it is, you spend your turn trying to win lost souls from your opponent. When it is the other player’s turn, however, you are trying to prevent the souls from being won. There is a sort of dualism here that would be disturbing were this not a game. The two players end up being two mischievous gods who use both good and evil characters to try to win more souls for themselves. In this respect, the game is more Greek than biblical.

One theological aspect that I did like is the fact that a hero can still redeem a lost soul even if the hero dies in battle. The creators of the game write that just as Christ died to save us, so our heroes can redeem lost souls through their own death. I find it somewhat odd to have Jacob or Ezekiel dying to save a lost soul, but I suppose we can simply say that Jacob is taking up his own cross to follow Jesus, and in doing so he lives out the redemptive act of Christ.

It is also a learning experience for my son. For example, one card has a special ability that gives characters from the NT additional strength. So, he has to determine which characters are from the NT and which are from the OT. He also takes the time to read the verse at the bottom of each card, so he is at least getting to know a little about the characters.

I will try to post a few pictures of some of the cards over the next couple of days.


  1. Insert bad jokes here: “Redemption for just $11.95! What a great price.” or “You got Redemption? About time!” [back]

Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Proper 19 (series reading)

I wanted to start the commentary on this week’s lectionary reading by apologizing for last week’s post on the Revised Common Lectionary. My brain was apparently on vacation, and I posted on the reading for Year A. Currently, we are in Year C, so that post won’t be useful for preachers until September 2008.

This week, I am back in the correct year. The OT reading for this current Sunday is Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28, which is fourth reading in a six week series on Jeremiah. The lectionary reading here is divided, with vv.13-21 left out. I don’t like it when lectionary committees split up the readings like this. It breaks the canonical shape of the passage. Apparently they think the additional nine verses are either unimportant or too long for a congregation to endure.

The larger block of material to which this reading belongs is 4:5-31, an oracle in which Jeremiah prophesies the coming of Babylon and the destruction of Jerusalem. Vv.11-12 announce that the coming destruction is not about cleansing the people from their sins. The time is past for that. The sin of Jerusalem is too severe. The punishment will be more severe as well.

The passage picks up again in v.22, which lays out the indictment against the people of Israel:

They are skilled at doing evil, but do not know how to do good.

The word skilled is a form of the word hokhmah, the word usually translated as wisdom. Wisdom, after all, is skill at living. Here, it is said that the people are skilled at doing evil, but do not even know how to do good.

This is followed by a description of the destruction in vv.23-28. The almost apocalyptic imagery in vv.23-26 pictures the earth a laid waste before the anger of the Lord. Yet even in the midst of the destruction, there is a small note of hope. God promises not to make a full end to the people (v.27b). What is a small glimmer of hope here in Jeremiah’s prophecies prior to 587 BCE will turn into a major theme of his message afterwards.

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