Here's happy news for those of you feeling nostalgic for the Cold War.
Gotta love the Red Sox Japanese connection. Saito pitched yesterday and didn't look all that bad.
2.24.2009
Plutarch on Writing Biographies
"I am writing biography not history, and the truth is that the most brilliant exploits often tell us nothing of the virtues or vices of the men who performed them, while on the other hand a chance remark or a joke may reveal far more of a man's character than the mere feat of winning battles in which thousands fall, or of marshalling great armies, or laying siege to cities."
"When a portrait painter sets out to create a likeness, he relies above all upon the face and the expression of the eyes and pays less attention to the other parts of the body: in the same way it is my task to dwell upon those actions which illuminate the workings of the soul, and by this means to create a portrait of each man's life. I leave the story of his greatest struggles and achievements to be told by others."
Plutarch, Alexander
2.23.2009
Collins, "Messiah and Son of God in the Hellenistic Period," part 1
In Chapter 3 of King and Messiah as Son of God, John Collins turns to a consideratio of "Messiah and Son of God in the Hellenistic Period." Upon his death Alexander's empire was split into two branches, as is well known, divvied up by the late Macedonian's generals. During his lifetime, Alexander had "demanded proskynesis, the Persian form of obeisance, which was offensive to many Greeks"; the emergent Ptolemaic and Seleucid empires developed their own unique ways of projecting divinity upon their rulers.
Collins contends that the Ptolemaic empire, headquarted in Egypt, managed to combine "Greco-Roman and pharaonic traditions" in its idealization of the ruler. Such a ruler assumed the status of divinity based on his position of king as well as the "traditional association of the pharaoh with the sun god and with Horus."
The Seleucid characterization of the ruler, while different, similarly found ways of exalting this figure. Because of their benefactions, "kings were sometimes hailed as divine." Especially noteworthy is the coloring of the genealogy of the king in Seleucid rendering. He is often said to be the direct descendant of god(s). An important qualifier, however, is "that divinity was a status that could be conferred and that stories about divine birth had only a confirmatory role," that is, were only applied retrospectively, after the individual assumed the position of ruler. Collins makes much of this latter point throughout his essays. I wonder, though, how significant this fact really is. Is it that surprising that one doesn't hear or read about the divine status and/or exploits of an individual--even if he were likely to become king--prior to his assuming the mantle of leadership? At that point there is another ruler and it still remains a question who next will be thrust into that role. Political common sense dictated a hesitation I would think. But I digress.
Collins notes that with the rise of the Roman Empire, many of these Hellenistic views of kingship were incorporated into the Imperial cult. Representing an "escalation," though, is the "favorable comparison of the emperor with the Olympian gods." While Jews living under the new Roman rule were more circumspect in their adulation of the emperor, it is interesting that the luminary Hellenistic Jew Philo, in his reflection, still felt it appropriate that gentiles accord the dominant ruler of the Mediterranean world "divine honors." Did Jewish views about the messiah in any way mirror the more general Greco-Roman ideas about the emperor?
We'll see when we next look at Collins' assessment of Jewish messianic speculation in the Septuagint and the Dead Sea Scrolls.
2.12.2009
Thursday Tidbits
The Times reports on Pakistan's admissions regarding the Mumbai attacks here. Let's hope that Pakistan's cooperation is indeed that and not mere machinations designed merely to soothe international concerns and protect members of the ISS or military.
In other news, Haaretz details a discovery of coins from the Second Temple Period here. From the article:
"In ancient times, the inhabitants of the Land of Israel and its environs would raise pigeons in underground caves. Called "columbariums," the caves had small niches, in which the birds laid their eggs. Over the years many columbariums have been unearthed at ancient sites around the country, particularly at those containing finds from the Second Temple period. A few days ago, archaeologists made a most surprising find at the bottom of such a columbarium, at a site at Kibbutz Ramat Rachel near Jerusalem - a hoard of coins from the time of the destruction of the Second Temple (70 C.E.)."
Michael Bird touches on a couple interesting topics: (1) The Fall of Man and the Foundations of Science and (2) scholar R.T. France's thoughts on Inerrancy and N.T. Exegesis (with attention to 1 Cor. 10:4).
Finally, I thought I would mention this post by Duane Watson on the confusion between beer and urine, since I plan to sample some (the former) tonight.
In other news, Haaretz details a discovery of coins from the Second Temple Period here. From the article:
"In ancient times, the inhabitants of the Land of Israel and its environs would raise pigeons in underground caves. Called "columbariums," the caves had small niches, in which the birds laid their eggs. Over the years many columbariums have been unearthed at ancient sites around the country, particularly at those containing finds from the Second Temple period. A few days ago, archaeologists made a most surprising find at the bottom of such a columbarium, at a site at Kibbutz Ramat Rachel near Jerusalem - a hoard of coins from the time of the destruction of the Second Temple (70 C.E.)."
Michael Bird touches on a couple interesting topics: (1) The Fall of Man and the Foundations of Science and (2) scholar R.T. France's thoughts on Inerrancy and N.T. Exegesis (with attention to 1 Cor. 10:4).
Finally, I thought I would mention this post by Duane Watson on the confusion between beer and urine, since I plan to sample some (the former) tonight.
2.10.2009
King and Messiah as Son of God, Chapter 1, Part 2
Psalms 2 and 110 are key to the discussion of divine kingship in the Old Testament.
Psalm 2
Psalm 2:6–7 reads “But as for me, I have installed my king upon Zion, my holy mountain. I will surely tell of the decrees of the Lord: He said to me, ‘You are my son, today I have begotten you.”
Against some who argue that this first Psalm—because of its alleged Aramaisms and its vision of universal kingship—reflects a post-exilic origin, Collins believes that it has a “far more plausible Sitz in Leben in the period of the monarchy, in the context of an enthronement ceremony.” Along with some others, he sees in the Psalm combined “Egyptian and Assyrian influences.” The language of begetting resembles that found in Egyptian texts, though this does not mean direct Egyptian influence, but perhaps suggests that pre-Israelite Jerusalem was so influenced. Later, Israelite enthronement rituals became an indirect beneficiary.
[Collins draws an interesting parallel here to Isaiah 9. He references Von Rad’s suggestion that the chapter celebrates Hezekiah’s enthronement not the birth of a baby, despite the Hebrew word generally translated as “give birth or beget.” Collins thinks that Von Rad’s argument has weight in that Psalm 2 and Psalm 45:6 (“Your throne, O God, endures forever”) demonstrate that “the king could be addressed as elohim, “god.” Collins conclusion follows:
It seems very likely that the Jerusalemite enthronement ritual was influenced, even if only indirectly, by Egyptian ideas of kingship. At least as a matter of court rhetoric, the king was declared to be the son of God, and could be called an elohim, a god.
Psalm 110
Psalm 110:1 “The Lord says to my Lord: “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet”
Psalm 110:4 “The Lord has sworn and will not change his mind, “You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.”
Collins suggests that this psalm provides a link to Assyrian influence—“mediated through Canaanite traditions—in its meditation on the status of the king. “Kingship and priesthood were associated in Assyrian tradition, where the king had the title shangu, a term related to the provision and maintenance of sanctuaries.”
However, even in this psalm one finds Egyptian ideas, argues Collins. For the “invitation to the king to sit at the right hand of the deity . . . has long been recognized as an Egyptian motif, known from the iconography of the New Kingdom.”
Psalm 110:3 (109:3 in the Greek) is a notoriously corrupt verse. Collins argues it should stand as follows:
In sacred splendor, from the womb, from dawn, you have the dew wherewith I have begotten you.
In this reading “the dew is the means by which the deity has begotten the king, and it infuses him with divine vitality.” While it is not certain that “dew” does approach the same meaning here that it does in Egyptian inscriptions, the “motifs of seating at the right hand and sun-like emergence from the dawn . . . strongly suggest an Egyptian background.”
Collins offers a few important conclusions to his comparative study:
“The status of the king in Jerusalem was not as exalted as that of the pharaoh, and the testimonies to his divine sonship that have been preserved are relatively few. Nonetheless, the language of sonship does have mythical overtones, and clearly claims for the king a status greater than human.”
In “the Hebrew Bible, to say that the king was son of God was to suggest a special relationship to the Most High, but certainly not parity.”
The “main implication of the declaration that the king was son of God is the implication that he is empowered to act as God’s surrogate on earth.”
“The fact that the dominant attitude in biblical tradition insists on a sharp distinction between divinity and humanity, and is sharply critical of kingship makes the preservation of the royal psalms all the more remarkable. It requires that we take them seriously as a witness to preexilic religion, before it was chastened by the harsh historical experiences that led to the demise of the monarchy.”
Psalm 2
Psalm 2:6–7 reads “But as for me, I have installed my king upon Zion, my holy mountain. I will surely tell of the decrees of the Lord: He said to me, ‘You are my son, today I have begotten you.”
Against some who argue that this first Psalm—because of its alleged Aramaisms and its vision of universal kingship—reflects a post-exilic origin, Collins believes that it has a “far more plausible Sitz in Leben in the period of the monarchy, in the context of an enthronement ceremony.” Along with some others, he sees in the Psalm combined “Egyptian and Assyrian influences.” The language of begetting resembles that found in Egyptian texts, though this does not mean direct Egyptian influence, but perhaps suggests that pre-Israelite Jerusalem was so influenced. Later, Israelite enthronement rituals became an indirect beneficiary.
[Collins draws an interesting parallel here to Isaiah 9. He references Von Rad’s suggestion that the chapter celebrates Hezekiah’s enthronement not the birth of a baby, despite the Hebrew word generally translated as “give birth or beget.” Collins thinks that Von Rad’s argument has weight in that Psalm 2 and Psalm 45:6 (“Your throne, O God, endures forever”) demonstrate that “the king could be addressed as elohim, “god.” Collins conclusion follows:
It seems very likely that the Jerusalemite enthronement ritual was influenced, even if only indirectly, by Egyptian ideas of kingship. At least as a matter of court rhetoric, the king was declared to be the son of God, and could be called an elohim, a god.
Psalm 110
Psalm 110:1 “The Lord says to my Lord: “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet”
Psalm 110:4 “The Lord has sworn and will not change his mind, “You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.”
Collins suggests that this psalm provides a link to Assyrian influence—“mediated through Canaanite traditions—in its meditation on the status of the king. “Kingship and priesthood were associated in Assyrian tradition, where the king had the title shangu, a term related to the provision and maintenance of sanctuaries.”
However, even in this psalm one finds Egyptian ideas, argues Collins. For the “invitation to the king to sit at the right hand of the deity . . . has long been recognized as an Egyptian motif, known from the iconography of the New Kingdom.”
Psalm 110:3 (109:3 in the Greek) is a notoriously corrupt verse. Collins argues it should stand as follows:
In sacred splendor, from the womb, from dawn, you have the dew wherewith I have begotten you.
In this reading “the dew is the means by which the deity has begotten the king, and it infuses him with divine vitality.” While it is not certain that “dew” does approach the same meaning here that it does in Egyptian inscriptions, the “motifs of seating at the right hand and sun-like emergence from the dawn . . . strongly suggest an Egyptian background.”
Collins offers a few important conclusions to his comparative study:
“The status of the king in Jerusalem was not as exalted as that of the pharaoh, and the testimonies to his divine sonship that have been preserved are relatively few. Nonetheless, the language of sonship does have mythical overtones, and clearly claims for the king a status greater than human.”
In “the Hebrew Bible, to say that the king was son of God was to suggest a special relationship to the Most High, but certainly not parity.”
The “main implication of the declaration that the king was son of God is the implication that he is empowered to act as God’s surrogate on earth.”
“The fact that the dominant attitude in biblical tradition insists on a sharp distinction between divinity and humanity, and is sharply critical of kingship makes the preservation of the royal psalms all the more remarkable. It requires that we take them seriously as a witness to preexilic religion, before it was chastened by the harsh historical experiences that led to the demise of the monarchy.”
2.09.2009
Harmony
In an interesting article a number of years back ("The Homonoia Coins of Asia Minor and Ephesians 1:21"), John Paul Lotz makes an argument for reading Ephesians 1:21 against the backdrop of inter–city(-state) politics in the developing Greco-Roman world. Speaking of Christ in this verse, Paul indicates that God has seated him “far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come.” Is this polemical proposition that by God’s having raised him from the dead, Christ receives a status far superior to earthly rulers (i.e., the emperor) and has the power and title (i.e., name) to prove it?
Lotz points out that with their own sense of autonomy and military might waning as a result of internal warring coupled with the ascension of Rome, city-states of Asia Minor struggled to find new ways to assert their influence over and against one other. An important realm in which they competed was the cultic/religious one. For example, as the cult of the emperor took rise in the provinces—interestingly enough, in a more full-blown way than in Rome itself—the once powerful city-states grasped hold of its introduction as a means by which to curry special favor with the ruling power of the day and to outpace other cities competing for influence. Sometimes this was accomplished by obtaining from Rome the honor of building a temple for the furtherance of the imperial cult. Titles were appropriated by cities upon their establishment and/or stewardship of a particular cult (witness Ephesus’s claim to hosting the great temple of Artemis), such as the imperial cult. According to Lotz, having “the imperial cult temple and being able to list among one’s titles . . . [Neokoros] was a key factor in securing the highly prestigious title . . . [First of Asia].”Once accomplished, other city-states were obliged to recognize that this or that particular city-state (e.g., Pergamum, Ephesus) was so honored
Why is this bit of information important? Because, as Lotz illustrates, such competition reveals the tense state of affairs between rival cities in Asia Minor that prevailed under the so-called Pax Romana. That there really was festering conflict and a high state of rivalry at work helps explain, in turn, the concerted effort to foster “harmony” (homonoia) throughout the empire. Literary (Lotz draws special attention to Plutarch, Dio Chrysostom, and Aristides), inscriptional, and numismatic evidence from the first few centuries of the Common Era bear witness to a heightened glorification of this quality. “Harmony” is personified on coins as well as commemorative monuments as a way of establishing the political prerequisite for peaceful co-existence and, as a goddess, even becomes the recipient of cultic devotion.
Was the apostle Paul speaking into this atmosphere of rivalry when he wrote of the risen Christ that he is above all rule and has attained the highest name/titles for himself? Lotz thinks so. Ephesians has a lot to do with bringing rival elements of Christian society—Jew and Gentile—together. Just perhaps Paul is arguing that Christ, the highest power of all—not Caesar—is alone able to unite warring parties. Only he can accomplish true harmony. Seems like a relevant message for today, huh?
Lotz points out that with their own sense of autonomy and military might waning as a result of internal warring coupled with the ascension of Rome, city-states of Asia Minor struggled to find new ways to assert their influence over and against one other. An important realm in which they competed was the cultic/religious one. For example, as the cult of the emperor took rise in the provinces—interestingly enough, in a more full-blown way than in Rome itself—the once powerful city-states grasped hold of its introduction as a means by which to curry special favor with the ruling power of the day and to outpace other cities competing for influence. Sometimes this was accomplished by obtaining from Rome the honor of building a temple for the furtherance of the imperial cult. Titles were appropriated by cities upon their establishment and/or stewardship of a particular cult (witness Ephesus’s claim to hosting the great temple of Artemis), such as the imperial cult. According to Lotz, having “the imperial cult temple and being able to list among one’s titles . . . [Neokoros] was a key factor in securing the highly prestigious title . . . [First of Asia].”Once accomplished, other city-states were obliged to recognize that this or that particular city-state (e.g., Pergamum, Ephesus) was so honored
Why is this bit of information important? Because, as Lotz illustrates, such competition reveals the tense state of affairs between rival cities in Asia Minor that prevailed under the so-called Pax Romana. That there really was festering conflict and a high state of rivalry at work helps explain, in turn, the concerted effort to foster “harmony” (homonoia) throughout the empire. Literary (Lotz draws special attention to Plutarch, Dio Chrysostom, and Aristides), inscriptional, and numismatic evidence from the first few centuries of the Common Era bear witness to a heightened glorification of this quality. “Harmony” is personified on coins as well as commemorative monuments as a way of establishing the political prerequisite for peaceful co-existence and, as a goddess, even becomes the recipient of cultic devotion.
Was the apostle Paul speaking into this atmosphere of rivalry when he wrote of the risen Christ that he is above all rule and has attained the highest name/titles for himself? Lotz thinks so. Ephesians has a lot to do with bringing rival elements of Christian society—Jew and Gentile—together. Just perhaps Paul is arguing that Christ, the highest power of all—not Caesar—is alone able to unite warring parties. Only he can accomplish true harmony. Seems like a relevant message for today, huh?
2.06.2009
King and Messiah as Son of God, Chapter 1, Part 1
In the first chapter of King and Messiah as Son of God, John J. Collins tackles the fundamental topic, “The King as Son of God.” He begins this chapter by reminding readers that the transliterated messiah comes from a Hebrew word that “means simply ‘anointed’ and is not used in the Hebrew bible in an eschatological sense.” Collins then frames his discussion in terms of the ongoing debate concerning whether biblical references in the Psalms and elsewhere to the king as “son of God” represent an indebtedness to Egyptian belief in the ruler’s divinity or rather reflect a metaphorical acknowledgment of God’s appointment of the king.
Before examining views of the king in Ancient Judah, Collins analyzes evidence from other ancient societies which shed light on how kings were portrayed in relation to the divine.
Egypt
To portray the Pharaoh’s ascension, some Egyptian texts use terms like “dew” or “fragrance” to conjure up images of sexual intercourse. The following exchanges refer to the god Amon-Re and the Egyptian Queen Hatshepsut (ca. 1479–1458 BCE):
Utterance of Amon-Re, lord of Thebes, presider over Karnak: “He made his form like the majesty of this husband . . . he found her as she slept . . . he imposed his desire on her, he caused that she should see him in his form as a god.”
Utterance by the king’s wife and king’s mother Ahmose in the presence of the majesty of this august god, Amon, Lord of Thebes: “How great is thy fame! It is splendid to see they front; thou hast united my majesty with thy favors, thy dew is in all my limbs.” After this, the majesty of the god did all he desired with her.
Even when such graphic imagery is absent, it is quite common to find in Egyptian texts the language or idea of begetting. There is, according to Collins, some real sense in which Egyptian rulers were projected as the offspring of the gods.
Collins cautions, however, against on over literal reimagining of actual Egyptian beliefs, asserting that it “may be that ancient Egyptians were more conscious of the metaphorical character of such language than modern scholars have often assumed.” It seems that the factor which is most important in granting divine status is the office of king (i.e., pharaoh), such that it is only upon becoming king that the ruler is then portrayed—retrospectively—as born of gods. Despite this caveat, Collins concludes that “there is no doubt that the claims of the pharaoh to divine status were taken seriously in ancient Egypt, in the sense that he was not regarded as an ordinary mortal.”
Ancient Mesopotamia
Divine kingship as belief was less common in ancient Mesopotamia. It did, however, persist for a short span under the rule of Naram-Sin “at the end of the third millennium in ancient Sumer.” Again at points during the Neo-Assyrian periods there is the representation of the king “as a son of a god,” though the language is less explicit than the Egyptian inscriptions in blatantly calling the king a god. Nonetheless, “the divine-like character of the Assyrian king is meant to be taken seriously.”
Ancient Canaan
Little evidence exists from Canaanite sources to draw a direct parallel to the Egyptian deification of the king. Collins does note that in “the Ugaritic king list, each of the names of the dead kings are preceded by the word il, “god,” but recognizes not much can be drawn from this title. In facts, dead kings were not deified but dwelt in the underworld, even if among more respected company. Collins speculates that “Egyptian conceptions of monarchy were mediated to Israel through ancient Canaan, which had been under Egyptian control for much of the second millennium B.C.E.”
Before examining views of the king in Ancient Judah, Collins analyzes evidence from other ancient societies which shed light on how kings were portrayed in relation to the divine.
Egypt
To portray the Pharaoh’s ascension, some Egyptian texts use terms like “dew” or “fragrance” to conjure up images of sexual intercourse. The following exchanges refer to the god Amon-Re and the Egyptian Queen Hatshepsut (ca. 1479–1458 BCE):
Utterance of Amon-Re, lord of Thebes, presider over Karnak: “He made his form like the majesty of this husband . . . he found her as she slept . . . he imposed his desire on her, he caused that she should see him in his form as a god.”
Utterance by the king’s wife and king’s mother Ahmose in the presence of the majesty of this august god, Amon, Lord of Thebes: “How great is thy fame! It is splendid to see they front; thou hast united my majesty with thy favors, thy dew is in all my limbs.” After this, the majesty of the god did all he desired with her.
Even when such graphic imagery is absent, it is quite common to find in Egyptian texts the language or idea of begetting. There is, according to Collins, some real sense in which Egyptian rulers were projected as the offspring of the gods.
Collins cautions, however, against on over literal reimagining of actual Egyptian beliefs, asserting that it “may be that ancient Egyptians were more conscious of the metaphorical character of such language than modern scholars have often assumed.” It seems that the factor which is most important in granting divine status is the office of king (i.e., pharaoh), such that it is only upon becoming king that the ruler is then portrayed—retrospectively—as born of gods. Despite this caveat, Collins concludes that “there is no doubt that the claims of the pharaoh to divine status were taken seriously in ancient Egypt, in the sense that he was not regarded as an ordinary mortal.”
Ancient Mesopotamia
Divine kingship as belief was less common in ancient Mesopotamia. It did, however, persist for a short span under the rule of Naram-Sin “at the end of the third millennium in ancient Sumer.” Again at points during the Neo-Assyrian periods there is the representation of the king “as a son of a god,” though the language is less explicit than the Egyptian inscriptions in blatantly calling the king a god. Nonetheless, “the divine-like character of the Assyrian king is meant to be taken seriously.”
Ancient Canaan
Little evidence exists from Canaanite sources to draw a direct parallel to the Egyptian deification of the king. Collins does note that in “the Ugaritic king list, each of the names of the dead kings are preceded by the word il, “god,” but recognizes not much can be drawn from this title. In facts, dead kings were not deified but dwelt in the underworld, even if among more respected company. Collins speculates that “Egyptian conceptions of monarchy were mediated to Israel through ancient Canaan, which had been under Egyptian control for much of the second millennium B.C.E.”
2.05.2009
Iraq as the Model?
Daveed Gartenstein-Ross and Joshua D. Goodman report on a possible new strategy, inspired by a movement in Iraq, soon to be implemented in Afghanistan. Read their article, "How to Export an Awakening."
2.04.2009
2.02.2009
Envoys, Part 3
Margaret Mitchell’s analysis of the role of envoys in the Greco-Roman of Paul’s day reveals yet another important insight. The envoy served two masters, so to speak, acting on behalf of the one who sent him in delivering a message and for the recipient(s) in conveying a response. “In his commissioning formulas,” Mitchell suggests, “Paul shows himself sensitive to the double-sided role of the envoy, who has some relationship with both Paul and the church in question.”
We see how in Philippians, for example, Epaphroditus is called both “my brother and fellow laborer and comrade-in-arms” and “your messenger and servant of my need” (Phil. 2:25). That the envoy is more than just a substitute for the sender is seen even here, where what seems most essential is that the individual has a close and abiding relationship with both parties. As Paul’s call in Philippians is to a unity of mind and heart in service of the gospel, the role of the envoy serves a rhetorical purpose by binding together apostle and church as co-participants in this very mission.
We see how in Philippians, for example, Epaphroditus is called both “my brother and fellow laborer and comrade-in-arms” and “your messenger and servant of my need” (Phil. 2:25). That the envoy is more than just a substitute for the sender is seen even here, where what seems most essential is that the individual has a close and abiding relationship with both parties. As Paul’s call in Philippians is to a unity of mind and heart in service of the gospel, the role of the envoy serves a rhetorical purpose by binding together apostle and church as co-participants in this very mission.
E.P. Sanders
Mark Goodacre links to this "academic autobiography" of E.P. Sanders, a pioneering figure in the field of biblical studies. I found it a fascinating read. More than any other Sanders popularized the terminology covenantal nomism, the notion that Jews of Paul's day understood themselves as "in" because of God's election and, once in, as responsible to keep God's laws. The implication of this view is that Judaism was not characterized by a legalistic mindset that put a premium on works as a way to earn God's favor in the first place. In this paper Sanders discusses his influences as well as the process by which he reached his conclusions. (HT)
Is Inerrancy Inerrant?
Michael Bird offers a few responses to Greg Beale's discussion of the erosion of biblical inerrancy here. One of Bird's key concerns is that an "a priori theological deduction about Scripture always trumps the phenomena of Scripture in formulating a doctrine of Scripture." Read the post here.
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