Tongues redux
I heard it suggested that a straightforward way of reading “tongues of men and of angels” in 1 Cor 13 is referring to Greek and Hebrew. I’m not convinced that Hebrew is special in this way, but if so, this is consistent with my thesis that Paul is referring to Hebrew in the following chapter. It also implies the passing away of Hebrew as angels give way to men in the government of the church and the world. This coincides with the passing away of the language of the stars, as Gentile nations and rulers are called to recognize Jesus as well.
If you had to discern whether the New Testament commended ongoing prophecy only in the sense of foretelling, only in the sense of forthtelling, or both, on what basis could you do so? It does not seem to me that there is a distinguishing principle for this. Likewise for tongues, if you had to discern whether we should expect ongoing flames of fire, ongoing miraculous public speech in known languages, ongoing public speech in supposed unknown languages, ongoing private speech in supposed unknown languages, or some combination of these, on what basis could you do so? In particular: how could you possibly be content with one and not the others? Why would one be considered almost normative, and the others exceptional?
God appeared to Moses in a flame of fire from the midst of a bush which was not consumed (Exodus 3), and then later lit the fire on the altar himself (Leviticus 9). God thereby inaugurated his church with heavenly fire and expected the fire to be preserved by the faithful ordinary ministry of men (Leviticus 6); and it would have been disobedient and faithless for Moses to seek to re-create his earlier experience. “See, Lord, I let your fire run out. I buried your talent. Show us your power! Descend on us!” It is true that with successive covenant administrations, God re-established this fire, often after the sin of his church had extinguished it (2 Chronicles 7, 1 Kings 18, Acts 2); but each time he expected it to be preserved by the faithful ordinary worship of his ministers and people.
It shall never go out. (Leviticus 6)
Up to the throne
My friend James Lawrence pointed out that the date the movie 1917 takes place, April 6, is Good Friday of that year. This is also the date the US entered the war. This brings up some fascinating parallels to Holy Week, many of which seem to me to be clearly intentional.
General Erinmore underscores this parallel in a striking way with his quote from Kipling: “Down to Gehenna, or up to the Throne, He travels the fastest who travels alone.” Jesus’s own journey was one of a descent to the dead and an ascent to the Father’s throne. Tom Blake and Will Scofield’s journey is similar; Blake actually dies, and Scofield travels at night through the town of Ecoust with its burning church, even to the point of traveling underground. Both of these men’s movements are a kind of descent into hell, preceding Scofield’s ascension to the presence of Colonel Mackenzie and then his rest under the great tree.
At the opening of the movie, Blake and Scofield are chided and woken from sleep, much like the disciples at Gethsemane. Echoing Jesus’s cries at Gethsemane, Scofield later laments, “Why in God’s name did you have to choose me?”
Various times seem significant in the movie: the men are told to expect no resistance in daylight; the afternoon is “bloody quiet;” Scofield experiences a time of darkness as he passes out; and the denouement takes place at dawn. Some of the names are also significant. We see Blake and Scofield passing through Church Avenue, and they later make their way to Paradise Alley, where they meet Lieutenant Leslie, whose name means “holly garden.” Croisilles Wood recalls the cross. The men climb several hills.
There are significant mentions of food. Scofield shares a piece of bread with Blake. Later Scofield recalls trading a medal for a bottle of wine. Significantly, he drank this wine because “I was thirsty.” Later, Scofield shares his food with Lauri and the baby, a kind of midnight Passover meal.
There are telling injuries. Blake tells the story of a man named Wilco who loses his ear entirely, much like Malchus. You could also say that, in a manner of speaking, Wilco had been anointed with oil. Blake’s brother Joseph also has an ear injury, and the town of Ecoust is named for hearing. Scofield is wounded in his hand by a kind of a nail; Blake is pierced in his side. There are several other occasions where hearing and word are significant: the men have a direct order to convey; Scofield is exhorted to ensure there are witnesses. Blake is remembered by Scofield as always telling funny stories—parables.
Scofield experienced a kind of resurrection in the German bunker, where “they wanted to bury us.” He was temporarily blinded; recall that Jesus heals two blind men on his way to Jerusalem, one of which is healed by means of mud in his eyes. Blake urges Scofield to “wake up” and “stand up;” this calls to mind Ephesians 5:14, which has long been a part of the church’s Easter reading and song.
There are further deaths and resurrections. Scofield experiences a second resurrection after he is shot. He is tended-visited by a woman after this. In a manner of speaking, you could say that he gives this woman and the baby that she has found to one another, much like Jesus with Mary and John.
Most significantly, the two men together by their work save Joseph Blake and 1,600 men at sunrise. There is a more subtle resurrection in that we see chopped down cherry trees on Friday, but Scofield encounters cherry blossoms after his third death and resurrection in the river. Remember, too, that the earlier cherry trees were without fruit, just as the fig tree that Jesus encountered. Blake remarks that the trees will grow again when the stones rot; by comparison, Jesus, weeping over Jerusalem that is about to be cut down, proclaims that the stones will praise him if it will not.
In spite of these many resurrections, the significance of this day is hidden from most of the weary men who participate in it. Colonel Mackenzie had “hoped today might be a good day,” not realizing that this day not only secured the life of his men but also, from a great distance, the end of the war.
You could say that the two men do the work of their father; Erinmore is a fatherly figure, and Major Hepburn commends Scofield at the end with a “well done, lad.”
There are some less likely allusions as well, or ones that are more broadly Christian and not necessarily tied to Holy Week. For better or worse, the name of Jesus appears ten times in the movie. Blake and Scofield give water to their enemy. There is a “bowing chap;” Blake jokes that he considered entering the priesthood; nearly angelic helpers carry the body of Blake; and Lieutenant Leslie offers pardon for Blake and Scofield’s sins. As Blake and Scofield pass through the bunker, they are lights shining in darkness. In Croisilles Wood, a significant wind passes through the trees, and the men sing of their passage to heaven.
Some have suggested that the movie intends to mirror Dante’s Divine Comedy. In terms of the division of time, this does not at first glance seem very compelling, as Scofield’s beatific vision is very condensed. However, it is significant that the Divine Comedy itself mirrors Easter. And we also see at several points that Scofield is profoundly moved and motivated by his wife and daughters. So this motif also has some merit.
Christos anesti!
Persuasion
Some favorite quotes from Jane Austen’s Persuasion:
Anne’s object was, not to be in the way of anybody; and where the narrow paths across the fields made many separations necessary, to keep with her brother and sister. Her pleasure in the walk must arise from the exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year upon the tawny leaves, and withered hedges, and from repeating to herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn, that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness, that season which had drawn from every poet, worthy of being read, some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling. She occupied her mind as much as possible in such like musings and quotations . . .
As soon as she could, she went after Mary, and having found, and walked back with her to their former station, by the stile, felt some comfort in their whole party being immediately afterwards collected, and once more in motion together. Her spirits wanted the solitude and silence which only numbers could give.
Anne, judging from her own temperament, would have deemed such a domestic hurricane a bad restorative of the nerves, which Louisa’s illness must have so greatly shaken. But Mrs Musgrove, who got Anne near her on purpose to thank her most cordially, again and again, for all her attentions to them, concluded a short recapitulation of what she had suffered herself by observing, with a happy glance round the room, that after all she had gone through, nothing was so likely to do her good as a little quiet cheerfulness at home. . . .
Everybody has their taste in noises as well as in other matters; and sounds are quite innoxious, or most distressing, by their sort rather than their quantity. When Lady Russell not long afterwards, was entering Bath on a wet afternoon, and driving through the long course of streets from the Old Bridge to Camden Place, amidst the dash of other carriages, the heavy rumble of carts and drays, the bawling of newspapermen, muffin-men and milkmen, and the ceaseless clink of pattens, she made no complaint. No, these were noises which belonged to the winter pleasures; her spirits rose under their influence; and like Mrs Musgrove, she was feeling, though not saying, that after being long in the country, nothing could be so good for her as a little quiet cheerfulness.
She was deep in the happiness of such misery, or the misery of such happiness, instantly.
“It is a sort of pain, too, which is new to me. I have been used to the gratification of believing myself to earn every blessing that I enjoyed. I have valued myself on honourable toils and just rewards. Like other great men under reverses,” he added, with a smile. “I must endeavour to subdue my mind to my fortune. I must learn to brook being happier than I deserve.”
In this manner
How often should we pray for our daily bread—or our coming bread, as some would say? We should pray “this day”—that is, every day. Wouldn’t it be strange if, on such a day, the congregation assembled for worship, but the coming bread was not set out for her? We would be declaring that God was the kind of father who, if his son asks for bread, gives him something else.
And isn’t worship itself, in a sense, a kind of prayer? Wouldn’t it be strange if, in this prayer, we did not confess our sins and ask forgiveness? We would be declaring that it was not necessary to obey Jesus’s instruction to pray “in this manner.”
Bless Yahweh
Paul—the same Paul who wrote Romans—doesn’t merely want you to believe this:
The mercy of Yahweh is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him,
And his righteousness to children’s children,
To such as keep his covenant,
And to those who remember his commandments to do them. (Psalm 103)
No, he also wants you to sing it (Ephesians 5, Colossians 3). To the one with understanding, this Psalm is not a provocation to—but a protection from—self-righteousness, presumption, legalism, or any other kind of spiritual pride.
Mansfield Park
Some favorite quotes:
In everything but disposition they were admirably taught.
Lady Bertram . . . [was] one of those persons who think nothing can be dangerous or difficult or fatiguing to anybody but themselves.
Mrs Norris’s talking of it everywhere as a matter not to be talked of at present.
Of all transactions [marriage is] the one in which people expect most from others and are least honest themselves.
It will, I believe, be everywhere found, that as the clergy are, or are not what they ought to be, so are the rest of the nation.
It was a beautiful evening, mild and still, and the drive was as pleasant as the serenity of nature could make it; but when Mrs. Norris ceased speaking it was altogether a silent drive to those within. Their spirits were in general exhausted—and to determine whether the day had afforded most pleasure or pain, might occupy the meditations of almost all.
I speak what appears to me the general opinion; and where an opinion is general, it is usually correct.
Mrs. Norris . . . was now trying to be in a bustle without having any thing to bustle about, and laboring to be important where nothing was wanted but tranquility and silence.
There is nothing like employment, active indispensable employment, for relieving sorrow. Employment, even melancholy, may dispel melancholy.
My spirit prays
Jason Garwood recently proposed a reading of Paul’s head-covering passage that attempts to address apparent inconsistencies by using “quotation theory.” Quotation theory proposes that some of the text is not Paul’s writing, but his quotation of a previous letter from the Corinthians.
This made me wonder how we might apply quotation theory to 1 Corinthians 14. It seems to me that you could take the following statements to be quotations:
- “For he who speaks in a tongue does not speak to men but to God, for no one understands; however, in the spirit he speaks mysteries.” (v. 2)
- “He who speaks in a tongue edifies himself” (v. 3)
- “if I pray in a tongue, my spirit prays” (v. 14)
To me this is not really satisfying. It is interesting that it pushes against the idea of a private prayer language; but it requires Paul to be humoring the Corinthians more than pushing back against them, which doesn’t seem to strike the right balance. If what they are doing is allowable but immature, then I would expect more pushback: “though by this time you ought to be teachers.”
Quotation theory is quite a powerful scalpel; many folks want to use it to disregard the latter part of 1 Corinthians 14. It is an easy way to play the game of “has God indeed said.”
I’m still mulling over the interpretive key I suggested a year ago (see also this quote from James Rogers).
Elihu
I proposed that Elihu is one of Job’s adversaries and speculated why God does not rebuke him in Job 42:
Elihu is perhaps spared the worse condemnation because he is a young man imitating Job’s older counselors, who have a greater responsibility; or else because he repented while their hearts remained hardened.
Continuing to consider Job as a type of Jesus, I think we can more fully explain this difference if we see Elihu as one of Jesus’s disciples: fleeing, denying him, hiding in an upper room. Ironically, this makes Elihu the one who is vainly vaunting his righteousness.
If Job’s three friends are friends in the technical sense—his closest advisors, pillars of his kingdom—then Elihu is a lesser official. Like Jesus’s disciples, he is cowed by the example of the wicked stewards-usurpers, and betrays his king. By the time God is finished speaking, Elihu must have repented and restored his allegiance to Job.
Surrounded
The book of Job is, in effect, an immense psalm. (René Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightning, 117)
The interpretive key to the book of Job is that he is a type of Jesus.
Even among those who recognize this, Elihu is often seen as an enigma, partly because God does not call him out in Job 42. Obviously some of the things Elihu says are true—as with Job’s other accusers—but I think that that a close reading of how he applies these principles to Job makes it obvious that Elihu is among the bulls and dogs of Bashan that surround Job. Consider:
- Elihu’s burden is like wine ready to burst (32:19), and trips all over himself in his rush to judgment (“and Elihu answered [Elihu] and said . . .”), just as wine was thrust in Jesus’s face on the cross
- Elihu accuses Job of being unrighteous (32) or in relying excessively on his own righteousness (34, 35). Jesus on the cross was recognized as righteous (Luke 23), and in his high priestly prayer Jesus petitions his righteous father (John 17) for his well-deserved glorification—which is obviously a kind of vindication.
- Elihu observes that Job drinks scorn with water (34:7); Jesus is subject to all kinds of mocking on the cross
- Elihu accuses Job of going in the company of the workers of iniquity (34:8); Jesus is crucified with brigands
- Elihu accuses Job of complaining that righteousness is not profitable (34:9). Although this is not explicitly echoed on the cross beyond “why have you forsaken me,” such a complaint is within the scope of righteous speech. All we have to do is follow Girard’s pointing finger and examine Psalm 77.
- Elihu wishes for Job to be tried for rebellion (34:36-37). This is exactly what happened to Jesus.
Elihu is perhaps spared the worse condemnation because he is a young man imitating Job’s older counselors, who have a greater responsibility; or else because he repented while their hearts remained hardened.
Proper
From the vault of the evening sky, from the countryside beneath her gaze came the murmur of the mass intoned as she had heard it thousands of times before, in the voice of her father, who had explained the words to her when she was a child and stood at his knee: Then Sira Eirik sings the Præfatio when he turns toward the altar, and in Norwegian it means:
Truly it is right and just, proper and redemptive that we always and everywhere should thank Thee, Holy Lord, Almighty Father, eternal God. . . .
When she lifted her face from her hands, she saw Gaute coming up the hillside. Kristin sat quietly and waited until the boy stood before her; then she reached out to take his hand. There was grassy meadow all around and not a single place to hide anywhere near the rock where she sat.
“How have you carried out your father’s errand, my son?” she asked him softly. (Sigrid Undset, Kristin Lavransdatter, Kindle Edition, loc 11196)
Seven hundred years later my children hear this same declaration as they enter into worship:
Truly it is proper and right that we should at all times and in all places give thanks to You, O Lord, Holy Father, Almighty and Everlasting King, . . .
I gotta have my orange juice. 