Faith Healer

I watched the Little House on the Prairie episode “Faith Healer” last night.  See here if you want to watch it on YouTube.  What’s ironic is that Nick Norelli had a post this morning about how he used to judge people as not having enough faith if they were not healed of their sickness.

The pieces of the episode’s plot that I want to highlight went like this: A charismatic faith healer named Reverend Danforth has come to Walnut Grove, and he has been conducting tent-meetings in which he heals people.  A woman gets out of her wheelchair at his first service, for example.  A resident of Walnut Grove, Matthew Dobbs, has a son named Timothy, who has problems with his appendix.  Doc Baker tells Matthew to take his son to Mankato to see a surgeon as soon as possible, but Matthew instead opts to take his son to Reverend Danforth.  Reverend Danforth does a ritual in which he pulls the pain out of Timothy’s body, and Timothy then feels better.

Later on, however, Timothy dies of a ruptured appendix, and so Matthew and Doc Baker interrupt Reverend Danforth’s meeting.  Doc Baker accuses Reverend Danforth of taking away Timothy’s pain, which could have saved Timothy’s life by warning Timothy to get medical help.  Reverend Danforth responds that he cannot circumvent the will of God—-that God wanted Timothy to be with God in heaven, and Timothy is happy right now in the presence of his maker.

Charles takes a trip to Sleepy Eye, and he notices that Reverend Danforth is conducting a prayer meeting there.  Charles goes into the tent and notices that Reverend Danforth is “healing” the same woman in the wheelchair whom he healed in Walnut Grove!  Charles then realizes that Reverend Danforth is a fraud and that the suspicions he has had about him are correct.  Charles does not want to interrupt that particular service, however, but he wants to show Mrs. Oleson—-who has supported Reverend Danforth in Walnut Grove—-that the guy is a fake, allowing her to see that with her own eyes.  Charles learns where Reverend Danforth’s next appearance will be.

Charles talks with Reverend Alden, the pastor in Walnut Grove, whom Reverend Danforth is about to replace.  Charles asks Reverend Alden why a faith healer would conduct fake healings.  Reverend Alden responds that the faith healer was probably trying to boost people’s confidence by showing them fake healings, and then they would have enough faith to be truly healed themselves.  Reverend Alden says that belief is powerful, whether God is behind the healing or not.  Reverend Alden also states that he has observed healings at the hands of faith healers (which, by the way, contradicts what he said in a later episode, “He Was Only Twelve, Part 2″, where Reverend Alden tells Charles that he never saw a miracle in all his years of ministry).

Charles takes the Olesons and Matthew to Reverend Danforth’s tent meeting, and, sure enough, Reverend Danforth is “healing” the same woman of paralysis!  Charles confronts Reverend Danforth, as he shows that the man with crutches does not really need them and that the “blind” woman is not actually blind.  As the people walk out of the meeting, Reverend Danforth pleads with them to return, telling them that he only used fake healings to build up their faith so that they could be truly healed.

I sympathized somewhat with Reverend Danforth.  I used to think that he was a fraud who was conducting fake healings to get money, but some questions lingered in my mind: if he was a fraud, why did he believe that he could heal people who were actually sick, such as Timothy?  Why would he invite anyone to come forward at his meetings and be healed?  Wouldn’t he be afraid that someone would randomly come forward, and he would not be able to heal that person, since he was a fraud?  I doubt it.  I think that he believed that he could heal, and that his fake healings could build people’s faith and set the stage for them to come forward for true healing.

Belief can be powerful.  The power of suggestion can make a person’s pain go away.  That’s why placebos are so effective.  But there is a difference between “mind-over-matter” and actual healing.  Timothy’s pain may have gone away, but his appendix was still rupturing, and so, technically-speaking, he was not healed.  He should have seen a doctor.

I found Reverend Danforth’s explanation for Timothy’s death to be intriguing, though I fully understand why many would consider it to be a cop-out: Reverend Danforth claims that God heals through him, and, when God doesn’t do so, he chalks that up to God’s will.  That is a cop-out, but could there be something to it?  In my opinion, if I am sick, I should have faith in God’s love and goodness, and I should hold on to hope that God will heal me.  But if God doesn’t, God doesn’t.  What more can one do?

A Source of Wisdom

January 12′s Our Daily Bread was interesting to me.  In that entry, Julie Ackerman Link says that people often stop her friend Anna on the street when they are looking for directions, and Julie goes into different reasons for this: that Anna looks honest and trustworthy, that she looks like she knows where she’s going, and that she attracts the lost.  Julie then goes on to say that, spiritually-speaking, believers have purpose and direction, in that they know where they’re going and how to get there.  Julie states that “When this kind of confidence is evident to others, the lost will look to us for direction.”

One reason that this entry stood out to me was that people have often asked me for directions on the street, and I don’t know why.  Usually, I don’t know the answers to their questions.  But maybe they ask me because I have an innocent-looking face and, because I wear glasses, I look like a brainy sort of person who might be able to give them directions.

Another reason that the entry stood out to me is that I’ve admired the motif of Christians being able to offer wholesome, reasonable advice to the rest of the world.  I once watched a late-night movie on the Trinity Broadcasting Network about a high school student who wished that he had never become a Christian and got to see what he and his high school would be like without his Christian witness.  When he was a Christian, he offered a jock helpful advice about relationships—-advice about listening, about love, about honesty, etc.  In the alternative reality in which he was not a Christian, however, he was messing around with the jock’s girlfriend, and so the jock was trying to kill him!

I think also about the testimony of Michael Landon’s second wife, Lynn (the mother of Michael Landon, Jr.): Lynn came to Christ on account of her hairdresser, who imparted to Lynn a lot of good advice and wisdom that she gained from her relationship with Christ.  I like the concept of Christianity being reasonable and sensible in the real world—-something that can help people to look at life in a positive way and to deal with their problems responsibly.  So often, Christianity has not struck me as overly reasonable.  Maybe that’s (at least partially) because I tend to leave out common-sense when I approach it.

Bonanza: A Dream to Dream

I just watched the Little House on the Prairie episode from Season 5, “Someone Please Love Me”, and I read that it is similar to a Bonanza episode that Michael Landon wrote, “A Dream to Dream.” I am watching the Bonanza episode right now, and, so far, they are VERY similar! I put it on my blogger blog here.  Enjoy!

When God Gives the “Stuff”

I was watching the pilot to Highway to Heaven last night, while studying, of course. Something has confused me on a lot of episodes. Jonathan (the angel, played by Michael Landon) has said on more than one occasion that God won’t give him the “stuff” when Jonathan does something that God doesn’t like (e.g., gamble). The “stuff” is supernatural powers. God won’t give Jonathan the “stuff” to use in a manner that God deems inappropriate.

And yet, there are times when Jonathan does wrong with the “stuff.” In the episode “The Secret,” Jonathan used his super-strength to rough up some bullies who were taking a guy’s lunch. God then took Jonathan up to heaven to stand trial. And, in the episode in which Ed Asner plays an angel named Harold, Harold uses supernatural powers in an inappropriate manner: he gives people what they want in a supernatural way, rather than doing what he’s supposed to do, namely, make people come together to solve the problem. For example, Harold turns water in a fire-hydrant into wine for the homeless, when he’s supposed to make people care about homelessness.

There are times when, in the same episode, we hear Jonathan say that God doesn’t give the “stuff” to an angel to do something that God doesn’t like, and yet also see an angel using the stuff inappropriately. I don’t think the writers of the show are so inept as to put a blatant contradiction into the same episode. I think that the answer to my confusion is in the pilot. God gave Jonathan some bikes to use in a nursing home facility, but that was a mistake because suspicious Mark was wondering where Jonathan got the bikes, and he was questioning every local bike dealership to find out. Jonathan concluded that the bikes were a mistake, but God gave them to Jonathan in a supernatural manner because he figured that Jonathan will only learn through making mistakes.

That could also be why God allowed Jonathan and Harold to use the stuff in an inappropriate manner: so they could learn. And yet, Jonathan realizes he can’t take the stuff for granted, for it comes from God.

Father Murphy: In God’s Arms

I’ve been watching Father Murphy, a show in the 1980′s that was created by Michael Landon. The following episode is entitled “In God’s Arms”, and it is my favorite episode thus far. It’s about a priest named Joe, who loses his faith because of the harshness and evils of life, and he finds his faith again, as he works in a saloon and reaches out to the people around him who need help. Even while he is an unbeliever, God uses him to help others, and God teaches him that the way of Christ is the way to go. Before Joe lost his faith, he believed because that was how he was brought up. But he lost that faith to gain a deeper faith, one that was not naive about the evils of life. Although the world remained the same harsh place that drove him to despair at the beginning of the episode, at the end, he resolves to be part of the solution rather than part of the problem.

There’s one thing that bothers me: at the end of the episode, he returns to the priesthood. The priesthood was where he had a hard time reaching out to others, for, as he said, people came to him confessing the same sins over and over, and he didn’t feel he was reaching them or making a difference in their lives. He was apart from the people. It was when he was in a saloon—among people—that he could make a difference. I hope that, even though he returns to the priesthood, he will not be cloistered and away from others.

I don’t want to use this episode to beat people over the head on the need to reach out to others, for people have beaten me over the head with that, and that’s really tough for me, an introvert. But I like how Joe’s reaching out to others in the saloon was pretty simple: a man was lonely, and so Joe listened to his story and played chess with him. A woman was getting beaten on, and so Joe stood up for her and affirmed her dignity as a person of worth. He also was there for her when she was sad. Joe wasn’t the life of the party, but he reached out to others in his own humble way.

I also like the soundtrack of this episode. It reminds me of the soundtrack of the Little House episode, “The Preacher Takes a Wife.” I’ve noticed that Michael Landon sometimes used the same soundtracks for shows. On the episode after this one, “The Dream Day” (which has Tina Yothers of Family Ties fame), I heard what became the theme song for Highway to Heaven.

This is a beautiful episode, and it reminds me that I’m in God’s arms, wherever I might be.

The Other; Triumph of the Trophies

1.  In my reading today of In the Beginning, Henri Blocher talks about God making male and female.  Blocher believes that men and women are equal, yet he thinks that women shouldn’t be preachers.  I guess that would make him a complementarian, right?

I found his discussion of homosexuality to be interesting, and odd.  It’s on pages 102-103:

We have seen that the being-with of the man and his neighbour reflects (and should serve) the being-with man and God.  If the fundamental being-with is face-to-face partnership with the other sex in diversity, then our proposition is confirmed and sharpened.  The face-to-face relationship with the LORD signifies for mankind respect for otherness in supreme and transcendent form and for the primary distinction—that between Creator and creature.  Immediately we can understand why the apostle Paul makes a close association between idolatry and homosexuality (Rom. 1:22-27).  This sexual perversion as a rejection of the other corresponds to idolatry in its relationship to God, the rejection of the Other; it is the divinization of the same, the creature.

Blocher’s argument is that our relationship with each other mirrors our relationship with God.  When we’re dealing with God, we’re relating to someone who is other, that is, different from us.  God wants our romantic relationships to be the same way: relating to the other, the sex that is different from our own.  But, in homosexuality, a person relates to someone who is like him or her, from the same sex.  That’s like worshipping the creature rather than the creator.

Okay…

This actually isn’t the first time today that I encountered the concept of God as other.  A blogger quoted R.C. Sproul’s Holiness of God:

To be undone means to come apart at the seams, to be unraveled…. [It is] personal disintegration…. [Isaiah] was considered by his contemporaries as the most righteous man in the nation. He was respected as a paragon of virtue. Then he caught one sudden glimpse of the holy God. In that single moment, all of his self-esteem was shattered. In a brief second he was exposed, made naked beneath a gaze of the absolute standard of holiness. As long as Isaiah could compare himself to other mortals, he was able to maintain a lofty opinion of his own character. The instant he measured himself by the ultimate standard, he was destroyed—morally and spiritually annihilated. He was undone. He came apart. His sense of integrity collapsed.

There is a special kind of phobia from which we all suffer. It is called xenophobia.  Xenophobia is a fear (and sometimes hatred) of strangers or foreigners or of anything that is strange or foreign. God is the ultimate object of our xenophobia.He is the ultimate stranger. He is the ultimate foreigner. He is holy, and we are not.

I’m not sure how to relate to God as other.  I mean, there has to be some bridge between us, right, for me to interact with God.  Me being in God’s image could be that bridge.  For a lot of Christians, the bridge is the fact that God became a man in Jesus Christ.

As far as relationships are concerned, I think it’s good to know different kinds of people and to get out of my own little universe.  My problem is that I have a hard time interacting with people who are completely different from me.  But maybe that’s where I need to ask that person about her interests, and why they mean so much to her. 

I’m not sure how homosexual relationships work.  I think that Blocher is assuming that men are a certain way, and women are a certain way.  But that may not always be the case.  That’s why there are men who feel they are in the wrong gender, and vice versa.

Also, if it’s so important for us to be romantically involved with someone who’s different from us, why do Christians oppose Christians dating non-Christians—being unequally yoked?

2.  In Bringing the Hidden to Light, I read Kathryn Kravitz’s essay, “Biblical Remedial Narratives: The Triumph of the Trophies”.  Her argument was that there are stories in the Bible in which the people of God are humiliated trophies of a conquering power, and yet God has the last laugh.  Or the stories speak to a setting in which the Jews are subjugated to a foreign oppressor, and they offer them hope. 

For example, Kravitz speculates that the story of Samson being blinded by the Philistines and killing them all in the end speaks to the Babylonian exile, in which the Babylonians blinded the sons of King Zedekiah.

The story of Naaman taking Israelite soil to Syria, for Kravitz, may reflect the time of Assyrian dominance, when Assyrians set their mark in the land of Israel.  In the Naaman story, a Syrian is setting an Israelite mark in the land of a power that is oppressing Israel: Syria!

That reminds me of something Marc Brettler says in The Creation of History in Ancient Israel: a story in the book of Judges was designed to offer Israel comic relief when she was suffering at the hands of a foreign oppressor!

Stories can create a world that encourages, comforts, or amuses us.  I’m reminded of something Merlin Oleson said about Michael Landon’s TV series: they were like the old Frank Kapra movies, in which you watched them and felt better at the end, energized to face life.

I’d like to think, though, that the biblical stories were based on some historical reality, that the Israelites were being offered a concrete basis for hope: that God had subverted Israel’s oppressors before, and will do so again.

Inspiration from the West Wing, Highway to Heaven, and John Adams

My blog posts this week have been rather perfunctory, largely because I’m tired when I come home from work!  But, believe it or not, I have been inspired by some things this week.  Here are three things that I saw on television that inspired me:

1.  Yesterday, I watched the first two episodes of The West Wing: Season 2.  President Bartlett has been shot, and the members of his staff look back at how they joined his campaign.

Josh Lyman was working on the Presidential campaign of Democrat John Hoynes, who was the frontrunner in the primaries.  Josh was disappointed because Hoynes didn’t have much of an agenda for the good of others: Hoynes was primarily interested in Hoynes, and Hoynes looking good.  But Leo McGarry invited Josh to listen to the little-known and highly-intellectual candidate, Democratic Governor Jed Bartlett of New Hampshire.  Josh was initially bored with Bartlett’s complex description of economics, but something got his attention: when Bartlett was asked why he, as a Congressman, voted against a milk program that would have helped dairy farmers, Bartlett responded, “Yeah, I really screwed you guys on that one.”  But Bartlett went on to say that he voted the way that he did so that poor families could have cheaper milk, and, if the dairy farmers didn’t like that, then they should vote for somebody else.  Josh then realized that Bartlett was a man who stood by principle.

Josh’s friend, Sam Seaborn, was a lawyer for the oil companies.  Sam wanted to make a positive difference in the world, but he wondered if his job was the place to do so.  When he tried to push his firm to purchase ships that were friendlier to the environment, his colleagues pooh-poohed his suggestion.  That’s when Josh signaled to Sam through the window that Bartlett was the real thing.  Sam then left his firm to join the Bartlett campaign.

Toby Ziegler was a loser.  He managed all sorts of campaigns, and all of them turned out unsuccessfully.  Now, he was on the Bartlett campaign.

C.J. Cregg’s job was to help Hollywood big-shots to succeed.  She made over $500,000 a year doing that!  But she was tired of handling petty egos and advancing bad movies.  Then, Toby Ziegler came along and offered her a place in the Bartlett campaign.  He told her that she would make less money than her current salary.  But here was an opportunity to do something that mattered.

Bartlett was kind of a loser at that time—notwithstanding his impressive academic credentials—and he was reluctant to take advice from people he didn’t even know.  But he had a heart of gold.  After he won a primary, he learned that Josh Lyman’s father had passed away.  Bartlett went to the airport and talked with Josh, offering to take the flight with him to keep him company, even though Bartlett had a speech to give. 

I like this episode because it’s about people’s desire for a purpose.  Many of the characters on these episodes were successful in their vocations, but they didn’t feel that they were accomplishing anything meaningful.  This episode reminds me of the disciples leaving everything behind to follow Jesus.  They had their lives and their agendas, but perhaps they didn’t feel that they were going anywhere.  Jesus offered them an opportunity to do something that mattered.  And he had a heart of gold! 

2.  I watched the Highway to Heaven: Season 2 episode, “Alone”, starring John Franklin of Children of the Corn fame.   Franklin plays a developmentally-delayed boy named Arnie, who lives on the streets.  Jonathan the angel and his sidekick, Mark, realize that Arnie is special, and needs special people to raise him.  The people whom God wants to raise Arnie are a bitter rancher whose wife left him, and the leaving wife.  Mark asks Jonathan, “Are you sure these are the right people?”  And Jonathan replies, “I’m not sure, but the Boss is.”  “The Boss” refers to God.

There are people who have potential, even if they make not look like it. 

3.  A few days ago, I watched the end of the John Adams miniseries.  John Adams disowned his son, Charles, an alcoholic who lost money in bad business decisions.  When Charles died, Abigail really took that hard.  She remarked that Charles was never anyone’s enemy, and was the delight of her heart.  That’s pretty telling.  Charles may have had his faults, but he was never anyone’s enemy.  He didn’t try to undermine other people.  I hope that others can say that about me, whatever my faults may be.

Gary Coleman and the Change in Television

I’ve been reading about Gary Coleman and watching You-Tube videos about him.  For a long time, I thought he got a raw deal.  He worked so hard as a child actor, making him a ubiquitous presence in my own childhood.  (You had the Saturday morning cartoon in which Gary Coleman was an angel, Different Strokes, movies like The Fantastic World of D.C. Collins, the Amazing Stories episode in which Barbara Billingsley called Gary Coleman “the Beaver”, and Dirk Benedict “Wally”, etc.)  And, monetarily, he didn’t have much to show for it.  I do recall hearing, however, that the tragic way that his parents handled his money inspired reforms to help other child actors, so maybe his pain wasn’t entirely for nought.

As I’ve read about Gary Coleman, I’ve found things that I admire about him.  He was a virgin until his 30′s, even though he could have used his celebrity status to seduce women.  He told a porn star (or whatever he was) that he didn’t just want sex, but intimacy.  And he appeared on the show Divorce Court with his wife, only he wasn’t there for a divorce; rather, both of them wanted to save their marriage. 

But people can point out some of his negative characteristics: his problems with the law, his difficulty in getting along with people, etc.  I like to focus on the positives, however, since there are enough people who look at the negative!  Moreover, I always liked Gary Coleman’s blunt, “matter-of-fact” way of talking.  I probably would have gotten along with him, in medium-sized doses!

Something else I’ve been thinking about: When I was a little kid, my mom had me watch the episode of Different Strokes in which Kimberley and Arnold get into a car with a stranger, and the guy holds them hostage!  She used that episode to teach me not to get into a car with strangers. 

That’s the way the 1980′s were: the family sitcoms helped parents teach lessons to their kids.  When there was an episode of Webster in which a teacher molested one of Webster’s friends, my parents used that episode to teach us that an adult shouldn’t touch children in particular spots, and that we should tell an adult we trust if that happens to us.  When there was an episode of Mr. Belvedere in which a kid is stigmatized because he had AIDS, my dad said that we shouldn’t hate people who have that disease.  Family Ties had its share of didactic episodes, as did Growing Pains and The Cosby Show.  And, going beyond the family sitcoms, Michael Landon’s Highway to Heaven presented opportunities for my parents to teach me about why racism is wrong, why we should care for the environment, and the need to be kind and considerate to people.  And The Smurfs also taught valuable lessons: we shouldn’t lie or tattle on others, for instance.  “Don’t do drugs” was another message that came through loud and clear on these shows (even the Smurfs, which had an episode in which an orb was a drug for the Smurfs). 

Does television help parents out like this nowadays?  Many television shows—including Desperate Housewives—have a sense of morality, but are there shows that the whole family can watch, which parents can use as object lessons to teach their children right from wrong?  I think that those types of shows were common in the 1980′s.  In the 1990′s, ABC still had a few, such as Full House, Family Matters, and Step by Step.  But, by-and-large, the 1990′s were the years of Seinfeld and Friends, which were about sex and making fun of life.  And, now that the 2000′s have ended, I can’t think of any sitcom that the entire family can enjoy, from which parents can draw object lessons for their children.

Is the situation as bleak as I am seeing it?  Do we see less of the types of shows that existed in the 1980′s because TV was catering to the baby boomers at that time, who had children; now, the baby boomers’ children are out of the house, and a lot of them are single. 

Ultimately, things aren’t totally bleak, because we still can watch the classics on TV Land and other stations!  But, in my opinion, TV has changed.

Merlin Olsen

I learned yesterday that Merlin Olsen has passed away.  Merlin Olsen was a football player, a sports commentator, and an actor on such programs as Little House on the Prairie, Father Murphy, and Aaron’s Way.  My family called him “Mr. Flowers” because he was a deliverer of flowers on TV commercials.

Here are some Merlin Olsen moments that I want to share:

1.  Merlin Olsen was Victor French’s replacement on Little House on the Prairie, after French had left the show to star on the series Carter Country.  Here’s what’s ironic.  On an episode of Highway to Heaven, Victor French’s character, Mark Gordon, was delivering flowers to a football player in his hospital bed.  The football player said to French, “With your beard and the flowers, I thought you were Merlin Olsen!”

2.  I enjoyed some of Merlin Olsen’s Little House episodes, in which he played Jonathan Garvey.  One was called “The High Cost of Being Right,” and it was about Jonathan and Alice getting a divorce, which, fortunately, did not happen.  But the title has often moved me, since it reminds me that always having to be right can lead to a lot of disaster in relationships.

On another episode, a telephone network is set up in Walnut Grove, and the nosy operator, Mrs. Olsen, listens to other people’s phone conversations.  She learns that Alice Garvey had a husband before she met Jonathan, and that he’s being released from jail.  Jonathan is outraged to learn about this, and he goes to meet his wife’s ex-husband, who works at a bar.  Jonathan doesn’t tell him who he is, and he comes to sympathize with the man, as well as appreciate the treasure that his wife truly is. 

It was sad when Alice Garvey died on the show, and Jonathan and his son, Andy, had to move on.  I admired how Jonathan still accepted Albert, the boy who accidentally set fire to the blind school, resulting in Alice Garvey’s death.  He even went after Albert when Albert ran away.

There are other moments in my mind from the show, as when Jonathan became a wrestler in an episode with Ray Walston (who looked the same as when he was older), and busted corruption as a town sheriff.  Then there’s the episode in which Albert and Andy try to prove to their fathers, Charles and Jonathan (respectively), that they can survive on their own.  The fathers secretly follow their sons, hoping to bail them out when they turn out to be wrong.  But it’s the fathers who end up with egg on their faces, on more than one occasion!  And the fathers admit to their kids that the kids did a good job.

3.  Unfortunately, I never got to see Father Murphy, which was another show made by Michael Landon (though Landon didn’t star in it).  I’d like to someday, but the DVDs are too expensive for my budget!  But my family enjoyed Aaron’s Way, which was on for only a year.  On that show, Merlin Olsen played Aaron, the father of an Amish family, which was continually confronting modernity.  I remember Aaron giving a Bible study to his family under a tree, which reminded me of my dad’s family Bible studies. 

But another scene that sticks out to me after more than twenty years is when Aaron is called to the witness stand and asked if he swore to tell the truth.  He replies, “I do not,” to baffled stares.  After he explains that the Amish don’t believe in swearing and think that an oath is between man and God, the judge asks him if he’ll just be honest in his testimony.  Aaron says that he will.  This scene stuck out to me because I’ve often wondered if Christians are to swear oaths, since Jesus told us to swear not at all (Matthew 5:34).  When my high school had a mock trial and I was a pathologist, I just said in response to the oath, ”I affirm,” which got snickers, because it was so unusual.

In any case, R.I.P. Merlin Olsen.  It’s sad that so many of the Little House greats are dying off—Michael Landon, Victor French, Kevin Hagen, and now Merlin Olsen.

Adam Cartwright, Creating Identity, Not So Vague This Time, Prayer About Distractions

1.  I just watched the “In Memoriam” part of ABC’s This Week, and I learned that Adam from Bonanza died this week.  I always liked him because he was the level-headed, responsible Cartwright brother.  I preferred Michael Landon more in his Little House, Highway to Heaven, and Us roles. 

2.  Today, I’m going to combine my write-ups on my Ancient Israelite Religion reading and that of Theodore Mullen’s Ethnic Myths and Pentateuchal Foundations. 

In Ancient Israelite Religion, I read George E. Mendenhall’s “The Nature and Purpose of the Abraham Narratives.”  His thesis seems to be that the Davidic monarchy took over old traditions to create a “common ancestor” story, which would unite the estranged rural and urban areas of Israel.   

In Ethnic Myths and Pentateuchal Foundations, Mullen argues that Israel’s “history” was formed much later, in the exilic or (most likely, according to him) post-exilic period.  The exile threatened the Jews with assimilation and religio-cultural dissolution, so Judahite groups “compiled a past” that people identifying themselves with the group would embrace (71). 

The approaches of Mendenhall and Mullen are different.  Mendenhall thinks that the Abraham stories reflect Early-Middle Bronze language and ideas (e.g., possession of land).  Mullen, by contrast, argues against scholars who believe that the concept of Israelite tribes point to the ancient, pre-monarchical nature of certain Pentateuchal traditions, for he notes that modern anthropology has a concept of “retribalization,” which indicates that exilic writers could’ve come up with the idea of the tribes of Israel.

Mendenhall and Mullen date Pentateuchal narratives to different periods, but they agree on why they emerged: to give identity to an estranged people.

3.  In Reading Between Texts, I read David Penchansky’s “Staying the Night: Intertextuality in Genesis and Judges.”  On Friday, in my post, YHWH and His Asherah, Genesis 12 and 20 and the Reader, Samaritan Priestly-Line, under (2), I discussed another essay in that book, which talked about the wife-sister narratives in Genesis.  My problem with that essay was that it portrayed Abraham as a selfish jerk who devalued Sarah, when the ancients may not have viewed Abraham so negatively.  It’s possible that they did, but not certain.

Penchansky’s essay, however, acknowledges that there are a variety of ways to read the texts that he discusses, Genesis 19 and Judges 19.  In both stories, a man offers a woman he supposedly loves to thugs who want to rape him or his guests.  Penchansky states that he wants to go with the view that the man was wrong to do so, that he devalues women.  But he states that the ancients may not have read the text in the same way.  I don’t remember him making this point, but protecting one’s guests was important in the ancient Near East.

In this case, though, I’d say that the text stands with Penchansky.  In the Judges story, the tribes of Israel disapprove of the rape and murder of the man’s concubine, since that’s why they gather against Benjamin, which was harboring the thugs.  And the man who owned the concubine didn’t mention to the tribes that he handed her over to the thugs, probably because that would be embarrassing to him.  In many cases, there are different ways to read a text, and a variety of possible moral judgments that one can make about its characters.  For Judges 19, however, I think that the text disapproves of the man who handed over his concubine to the thugs.

4.  At Latin mass this morning, we had the priest who speaks about love.  He was encouraging us to spend ten minutes a day in prayer.  And, if our mind wanders, we should not worry, he said.  We should tell God what we’re thinking or what’s worrying us, and the distraction becomes a prayer.  I like that.  I don’t think prayer should just be talking about what’s on my mind from my day-to-day life, for it should also contemplate God.  But, in my opinion, it’s good to approach God as if he’s loving, cares about our problems, and invites us to find strength in him.