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So, here's where I demonstrate my complete and utter geekdom:
Obi-Wan Kenobi and the Second Chapter of Genesis
Or, why the creation account should not be taken 100% literally
No, really, it fits together. Here's how.
If you read the first two chapters of the book of Genesis, you find that there are actually two stories of the creation, not one. (And unlike a lot of places in the first five books of the Old Testament where scholars say that two different sources are put together to form one narrative, this one is fairly obvious because the whole story starts over again from the beginning.) The first version goes from 1.1-2.4a, and the second from 2.4b-the end of chapter two. (BTW, the reason it's broken up like it is is that chapter breaks weren't added until the first few centuries CE, and verse numbers weren't assigned until the early Enlightenment.) Anyway, the first narrative is almost evolution; it depicts a gradual progression of God creating things that gradually become more and more complex, culminating in humanity.
The second chapter, on the other hand, is much different. Man is created first, then the world, then woman, so that humanity brackets the creation account and neither woman nor man is complete without the other. The language is filled with symbolism and word-play and allegory. Man and Woman (Ish and Ishah in Hebrew) is one that translates; Adam ("the dusty one") is created from adamah (the soil) and Eve means "the life-giver;" Eden is the Garden of Paradise, at the center of which is the Tree of Life, etc. English translations can be hit and miss on how much of the poetry of this part they show us, but it's there in the Hebrew.
Chapter One can be taken fairly literally, but it's surprisingly close to evolution anyway; you just have to play with the order of what happens when, keeping in mind that the ancient Hebrews were not trying to write a science textbook. They were recording their creation mythos.
Chapter Two, on the other hand, is a symbolic allegory. It's like that scene in Star Wars where Obi-Wan Kenobi tells Luke Skywalker that Darth Vader betrayed and murdered his father Anakin. It's not and never will be literally true. It is, however, inicative of a deeper truth, in that when Anakin became Vader he did his best to get rid of all the things that had tied him to his old identity. The brash, generous hero that Obi-Wan had known was gone, "dead" to him. In the same way the second creation narrative is not a literal narrative that you could take to court. It is instead a symbolic story to draw our attention from the fixed chronological order of things (on the first day, on the second day, on the third day) and draw our attention to the relationships between God and the whole of creation, between God and humanity, and between Man and Woman.
The analysis of the creation narratives in the Bible comes from Intro to the Old Testament. The comparison with Obi-Wan Kenobi, in all its geeky glory, is all mine.
Translating the Bible into Goa'uld
Having taken care of the Star Wars fans, here's something for the Stargate fans.
We've been talking a lot in various classes about the inherent problems of translating anything into another language, particularly something that can be as ambiguous as the Bible is in places. (That's why the first thing you learn at Seminary is Greek and in my case Hebrew.)
There's a word in Hebrew that doesn't really have a good equivalent in Greek and has even less of an equivalent in English. It's an indicator that you're supposed to pay attention. In Greek they use 'idou,' in English the KJV uses 'behold' and most modern translations often skip it altogether. Anyway, it was mentioned in passing that people are even translating the Bible into Klingon these days, and (being a big Stargate fan) what immediately came to mind was whether or not anything had ever been translated into Goa'uld. Well, if anyone ever does this, it turns out that Goa'uld has a word that fulfills the same function as the Hebrew word I can't remember and the Greek 'idou.'
"Kree!"
On a more serious note:
Service music at LTSG
It has been said that the organist at my home congregation plays things too fast for the congregation to sing them. I tend to prefer things at his tempo, not being one who likes dirges, but some people don't.
However. They should come hear the organist here at LTSG. It's like the difference between NASCAR and a horse and buggy, particularly on any section that might possibly be interpreted as being related, however loosely, to chanting. His theory is that chanting is supposed to be more like speaking on a prearranged tone than it is like singing, so everything should be chanted at the same speed you'd say it, instead of the slow speed used by most congregations that's kind of half-way between singing and speaking. Thing is, some of his chanting is faster than some people talk. The tempos he likes things chanted work well if you've got a well-trained choir doing them, or if the chant melody is a (fairly simple) old familiar cadence that everyone knows (though even then, doing it that fast will cause problems). When you take a complex melody that is really a song and not a chant, particularly one that at least three quarters of your congregation has probably never seen before, and take it at his tempo ... the results ain't pretty, and we'll just leave it at that.
I'm thinking about writing a hymn-text for Advent. I just learned tonight at choir that the new hymnal will go back to the old familiar tune for "Hark a Thrilling Voice is Sounding." (The tune in the current hymnal is also old, but not the one most often associated with that text.) Anyway, the melody that we won't be using any more is a good one (which is rare for a green book alteration). It would be a shame to lose it completely. If I write new words for it they'll add it to the collection of hymns here at LTSG, which would be cool. And there aren't enough Advent hymns, so I've been toying with the idea of trying to write one for a while.
And I finally have a TV, which is also cool.
No, really, it fits together. Here's how.
If you read the first two chapters of the book of Genesis, you find that there are actually two stories of the creation, not one. (And unlike a lot of places in the first five books of the Old Testament where scholars say that two different sources are put together to form one narrative, this one is fairly obvious because the whole story starts over again from the beginning.) The first version goes from 1.1-2.4a, and the second from 2.4b-the end of chapter two. (BTW, the reason it's broken up like it is is that chapter breaks weren't added until the first few centuries CE, and verse numbers weren't assigned until the early Enlightenment.) Anyway, the first narrative is almost evolution; it depicts a gradual progression of God creating things that gradually become more and more complex, culminating in humanity.
The second chapter, on the other hand, is much different. Man is created first, then the world, then woman, so that humanity brackets the creation account and neither woman nor man is complete without the other. The language is filled with symbolism and word-play and allegory. Man and Woman (Ish and Ishah in Hebrew) is one that translates; Adam ("the dusty one") is created from adamah (the soil) and Eve means "the life-giver;" Eden is the Garden of Paradise, at the center of which is the Tree of Life, etc. English translations can be hit and miss on how much of the poetry of this part they show us, but it's there in the Hebrew.
Chapter One can be taken fairly literally, but it's surprisingly close to evolution anyway; you just have to play with the order of what happens when, keeping in mind that the ancient Hebrews were not trying to write a science textbook. They were recording their creation mythos.
Chapter Two, on the other hand, is a symbolic allegory. It's like that scene in Star Wars where Obi-Wan Kenobi tells Luke Skywalker that Darth Vader betrayed and murdered his father Anakin. It's not and never will be literally true. It is, however, inicative of a deeper truth, in that when Anakin became Vader he did his best to get rid of all the things that had tied him to his old identity. The brash, generous hero that Obi-Wan had known was gone, "dead" to him. In the same way the second creation narrative is not a literal narrative that you could take to court. It is instead a symbolic story to draw our attention from the fixed chronological order of things (on the first day, on the second day, on the third day) and draw our attention to the relationships between God and the whole of creation, between God and humanity, and between Man and Woman.
The analysis of the creation narratives in the Bible comes from Intro to the Old Testament. The comparison with Obi-Wan Kenobi, in all its geeky glory, is all mine.
Having taken care of the Star Wars fans, here's something for the Stargate fans.
We've been talking a lot in various classes about the inherent problems of translating anything into another language, particularly something that can be as ambiguous as the Bible is in places. (That's why the first thing you learn at Seminary is Greek and in my case Hebrew.)
There's a word in Hebrew that doesn't really have a good equivalent in Greek and has even less of an equivalent in English. It's an indicator that you're supposed to pay attention. In Greek they use 'idou,' in English the KJV uses 'behold' and most modern translations often skip it altogether. Anyway, it was mentioned in passing that people are even translating the Bible into Klingon these days, and (being a big Stargate fan) what immediately came to mind was whether or not anything had ever been translated into Goa'uld. Well, if anyone ever does this, it turns out that Goa'uld has a word that fulfills the same function as the Hebrew word I can't remember and the Greek 'idou.'
"Kree!"
On a more serious note:
It has been said that the organist at my home congregation plays things too fast for the congregation to sing them. I tend to prefer things at his tempo, not being one who likes dirges, but some people don't.
However. They should come hear the organist here at LTSG. It's like the difference between NASCAR and a horse and buggy, particularly on any section that might possibly be interpreted as being related, however loosely, to chanting. His theory is that chanting is supposed to be more like speaking on a prearranged tone than it is like singing, so everything should be chanted at the same speed you'd say it, instead of the slow speed used by most congregations that's kind of half-way between singing and speaking. Thing is, some of his chanting is faster than some people talk. The tempos he likes things chanted work well if you've got a well-trained choir doing them, or if the chant melody is a (fairly simple) old familiar cadence that everyone knows (though even then, doing it that fast will cause problems). When you take a complex melody that is really a song and not a chant, particularly one that at least three quarters of your congregation has probably never seen before, and take it at his tempo ... the results ain't pretty, and we'll just leave it at that.
I'm thinking about writing a hymn-text for Advent. I just learned tonight at choir that the new hymnal will go back to the old familiar tune for "Hark a Thrilling Voice is Sounding." (The tune in the current hymnal is also old, but not the one most often associated with that text.) Anyway, the melody that we won't be using any more is a good one (which is rare for a green book alteration). It would be a shame to lose it completely. If I write new words for it they'll add it to the collection of hymns here at LTSG, which would be cool. And there aren't enough Advent hymns, so I've been toying with the idea of trying to write one for a while.
And I finally have a TV, which is also cool.
