TT: Galatians and gender

Introduction:  I’m driving along, minding my own business, which sometimes includes listening to the Pure Comedy channel on SiriusXM.  I then switch over to one of my other favorites, the Symphony channel.  I hear a bit of Samuel Barber’s violin concerto.  I don’t typically gravitate to string (or any other) concertos for pleasure listening, but I immediately hear something pleasing to the ear, provocative, interesting, musically expressive, and also familiar.  And it reminds me of something in another one of Barber’s pieces that I like even more—the Second Essay for Orchestra.  In this case, the familiar musical vocabulary was a three-note pitch pattern that contributed a sort of shifting modal ambiguity.  And it sounded like Barber.  I would further make the claim that, if you played those three notes from that piece out of context, I could have guessed that it was Samuel Barber’s music.

Even masters have things they like, reuse, and depend on in their communication and art.

Exposition:  The Apostle Paul has more than one trick up his sleeve when he wants to communicate something especially important.  He sometimes structures the syntax chiastically or as a less specific inclusio, or he promotes a pronoun or another word in front of where it would typically be in order to be emphatic.  He might repeat himself, either with the same word or with synonyms.  Sometimes he creates new words altogether.  And why would he do that?  I’m speculating, but I think some things were just so special or crucial for him that he struggled to find existing expressions that would do them justice.

Then I think about Galatians, and specifically about the end of chapter 3.  It was eleven years ago that I wrote the words below, and I’m still persuaded by them, although I would not argue that Paul definitively had in mind what came to my mind.

I’d like to move now to one specific passage that may serve as an exemplar in viewing Paul’s message about New vs. Old.  I imagined these conversational responses inside the heads of the first “Judaizing” hearers of 3:28, as they read/heard 3:26-29.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek.”

“Yeah, yeah … I know he’s been saying that, but he can’t really mean that.”

“Neither slave nor free.”

“Now he’s meddling.  He really needs to just stop.”

“Neither male nor female.”

“What?!!  This guy is clearly off  his rocker.  Now he’s talking physical impossibility.

Wait … if that’s what he’s saying, maybe he really does mean that the Jew/Hellenist distinction is supposed to be erased in Christ now. . . .” 

This imaginary “conversation” sprang from my growing understanding of the radical change Paul was affirming in terms of adherence—i.e., moving from Old to New.

There, I believe Paul had something especially meaningful, even crucial, to communicate.  In order to drive home a part of his message to the Galatians, he engaged in what seems to me to be a sort of sequential crescendo.  (1) The Jew/Greek matter was real, and really significant, but it might have slipped by the consciousness of some if he had not moved on to (2) slave and free.  At that point, the upperclassmen of the day were implicated.  And finally, everyone was made conscious of this theological turn of events when Paul dared to say that the (3) male vs. female distinction—the most basic of distinctions, the one that was obvious to everyone, the one that was so much a foregone conclusion that no one would ever question it—was not a drawn line in God’s eyes.

The male/female distinction was still a thing (and would remain a thing) in human terms, because it is so basic—and so utterly obvious to everyone who honestly uses his/her ability to think.  But it was no longer a distinction to be made as a term of the God-human covenant or in any aspect of the God-human relationship.  The distinction obviously still existed, because it’s . . . well, so obvious, but it did not grant special status to the male in God’s eyes.

The ideological transgender movement, as known today, had not begun when I wrote what I wrote about Galatians 3 (pasted in above from here).  Today, this very basic male-female biological reality has been illogically turned on its head through pseudoscience and political agenda.  I don’t know what Paul would say today.  He might not use the same sequential illustration.  But Paul was no dummy.  He would still believe that women and men are equal before God, but he would never believe that biological males should or could be referred to as females.

Postlude:  A deeply compromised, presumably wounded acquaintance posted something about Paul’s “dead name” being “Saul.”  The meme basically asserted that Christians who use a contemporary person’s “dead name” should be calling Paul “Saul.”  I find that to be well beyond anachronistic.  It is offensive and downright stupid.  I am not calling my acquaintance stupid.  He is, as far as I know, a brother in Christ, and he deserves to be treated with respect regardless.  But he is compromised.  To suggest that a transgender-identifying female who gives herself a male nickname is somehow tantamount to Saul-Paul who was given a miraculous new start and a new name by God is worse than stupid.  It’s irreverent.

For more on “dead names,” see the corresponding section in last week’s Tuesday Topics post:

TT: being dishonest, disingenuous, nicknaming, and “deadnaming”

It shouldn’t be all Latin (or Greek) to them

A Roman walks in to a bar and says, “I’ll have a martinus.”
The bartender asks, “You mean a martini?”
The Roman replies, “No, if I wanted a double, I would have asked for one.”

That’s funny.

But that’s also the way it goes with most of those trained in the primary Latin-infused religion, Roman Catholicism.  It’s not always a Latin language orientation, but a RC angle on everything related to Christianity can enshroud anyone.  It must be acknowledged, too, that it’s the same situation with other denominations and groups:  the jargon takes on a life of its own.  It just happens that there are a bunch more Roman Catholics in the world than adherents of other systems.

Consider most English Bibles’ renderings of the word  ̔αγιος | hagios from the most ancient texts we have.  When used in the plural, this word is often translated “saints” or “holy ones.”

Imagine how difficult it is to get a Roman Catholic to read “refreshed the hearts of the saints” (Philemon 1:7) and realize it is referring to all the Christians in the given locale.  Philemon, to our knowledge, had not performed a miracle, and there was no “canonization” of people at the time.  There was no special class in Kolosse or Philippi or even in Jerusalem.  Sure, there were apostles who had special roles for a time, but they were no more worthy of grace in God’s eyes, nor had they any greater status ultimately, than Lydia in Thyatira, Naomi in Nazareth, Josh in Joppa, or Laura in Little Rock.  No set of Christians is any more special than the next set.

Perhaps it would be better to say that all of God’s people are in a single special class . . . but rooting out a problem like this might require a particularly strong negation.  Thus:  there is only one class of God-people, and there are no other classes in God’s eyes, period.  It’s difficult enough to communicate to your everyday Christian that s/he is, constitutionally, a saint.  And how much more difficult if you’ve grown up thinking that a “saint” is in a special class.

It’s not the fault of the individual Roman Catholics.  They may be, and many are, quite sincere in wanting to be God-people.  It’s the fault of the system.

As much as I gravitate to Greek, and as many times as the “it’s all Greek to me” joke has been heard, and as much energy as I sometimes feel when digging into a Greek text, I would never say the Christian Way is all about Greek.  Even more, it oughtn’t to be about Latin.

ὅτι τὰ σπλάγχνα τῶν ἁγίων ἀναπέπαυται διὰ σοῦ, ἀδελφέ.

quia viscera sanctorum requieverunt per te frater

TT: Lies, liars, and truth-upholders

A former government prosecutor has written a book about the “Deep State” and liars and Government Gangsters: The Deep State, the Truth, and the Battle for Our Democracy“government gangsters.”  I don’t think I will read this book.  I don’t need any more such fodder.  You don’t have to convince me.

Most politicians and government operatives are liars at one time or another, I suppose; these days, it seems that lying to achieve a goal is almost part and parcel of a politician’s job.  All the while, we commoners deeply feel a kind of vexing uneasiness that’s become associated with such liars and their lie-living.  I doubt you need further incriminating information fed to you by any more witnesses or whistle-blowers, nor does any one of us need additional warnings about crumbling society, geopolitical threats, or government leaders who commit crimes.  This kind of information comes often enough without buying a book!

On the contrary, I will share a few positive bits of advice from the book Live Not By Lies by Rod Dreher.  (I referred to this book previously here.)  The first half of the book, labeled “Understanding Soft Totalitarianism,” is deeply concerning and even depressing.  The other major section, though, is about how to live in truth.  It is positive, providing more of a sense of what to do, although perhaps not specific “steps to take” per se.  The affirmative chapter titles—for example, Cultivate cultural memory and Families are resistance cells—speak volumes, even without the intervening explanatory material.  I particularly want to spotlight the subsections in the first chapter of this second section:  “Value nothing more than truth.”  The subheadings of this section have merit in themselves.

Prefatory apology:  as a concerned, quasi-academic handler of sacred texts,¹ I should probably resist tying each of these points to New Covenant texts without thorough commentary and caveats.  Lobbing caution to the breeze, though, I’ll allow myself a couple of pointers to our scriptures under each heading.  I will likely be engaging in poor practices such as de-contextualization and “proof-texting,” but here goes.

“Choose a life apart from the crowd”

Noncontextual commentary:  Jesus warned about the need to choose the narrow gate (Matthew 7), and there are those “remnant” references in the Hebrew Bible, showing us that not everyone is going to turn out all right.  Therefore, we are well advised not to be in the crowd, which is likely an indicator of wrongness.  “Follow the crowd, and lose your identity,” warned my old friend David Tao’s song “Where Will You Be When You Get Where You’re Going?”  I think also of the examples of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshack, and Abednego, who would not go along with the crowd.  A life on the right path is lonely but necessary.

“Reject doublethink and fight for free speech”

Commentary:  A pointer to James 1:8’s unstable, “double-minded” man would be a trifle gratuitous when reading this reference to the Orwell term “doublethink,” so I won’t suggest that tie.  🙂  I don’t immediately call to mind any NC passage that speaks to what I think of as “free speech.”  Regarding the “fight” element:  there are numerous exhortations to be courageous and committed in speaking and living . . . being single-hearted, having one purpose.  There is also YHVH’s charge to Joshua to “be strong and courageous.”  I think also of call-to-unity passages such as Philippians 2, John 17, Romans 14:1-15:6, and Ephesians 4:1-6.  Those are not directly related, but they do emphasize singleness of purpose.

“Cherish truth-telling but be prudent”

Commentary:  First off, we might call to mind Jesus’ having advocated for prudence and wise caution.  He told the twelve to be “as shrewd as serpents and innocent as doves.”  (Matthew 10:16, NASB). 

The importance of truth seems self-evident, but I’ll share a longer passage from Ephesians below, hoping to give additional emphasis to both the notion and necessity of truth.

So I say this, and insist in the Lord, that you no longer live as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their thinking.  They are darkened in their understanding, being alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them due to the hardness of their hearts.  Because they are callous, they have given themselves over to indecency for the practice of every kind of impurity with greediness.  But you did not learn about Christ like this, if indeed you heard about him and were taught in him, just as the truth is in Jesus.  You were taught with reference to your former way of life to lay aside the old man who is being corrupted in accordance with deceitful desires, to be renewed in the spirit of your mind, 24 and to put on the new man who has been created in God’s image—in righteousness and holiness that comes from truth.  – Ephesians 4:17-24, Net Bible

“See, Judge, Act”

Commentary:  Now, in the realm of pompous, popular opinions:  ponder the commonly upheld principle of not judging, lest we be not ourselves judged, which is upheld too commonly, in my not-so-humble opinion.²  “Don’t judge” can be a crutch to help weak, unprincipled people limp along in a namby-pamby manner.  Rather, it is actually good to be trained to see, to be very observant, to perceive/judge rightly, and to act accordingly.  Some clear examples of what I’d call “right judging” are found in Galatians chapters 1 and 3, and in Matthew 23.

All of these things—the cherishing of truth over weak-kneed affiliations, judging rightly, and avoiding association with the wispy, politically correct crowd—relate to the upholding of truth and the exposure of lies.  Jesus, the Light of the world who came into the world to manifest both grace and truth, said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”


¹ My Scripture/Exegesis blog category contains, for better or worse, 442 entries.

² I haven’t created a chiasm in a while, and that one fell into place almost without trying.  Here is the layout:

Now, in the realm of pompous, popular opinions:

ponder the commonly upheld principle

of not judging,

lest we be not ourselves judged,

which is upheld too commonly,

in my not-so-humble opinion.

In this case, the middle is not actually what I intended to be emphasized, so it’s not a very good chiasm, but it was still fun to create in about 3 minutes.

Mini-lessons in context: zooming in/out

Sometimes, the view from close up gives you a different picture from the broader view, and awareness of both may provide fuller perspective.

Consider the map portions below.  The intersection is often referred to as the “Y.”  Look at the first image, though.  The road comes in from the left, meeting another road that runs from top to bottom.  It’s obviously a “T,” not a “Y,” right?  Yet when one understands the larger context, the picture changes.

Those who know the larger area context, i.e., if they have a zoomed-out sense of 10 miles or more, more likely think of the intersection as a “Y,” because they understand the larger pathway of the main highway.  The highway coming in from the north actually turns 90 degrees at that point, so the other highway—the one that goes south—sort of forms a Y, especially if the map is rotated 45 degrees or so, as in the lower, zoomed-out picture.

It’s the same intersection in both images, but one includes more area and is rotated.  If you’re focused on the smaller context—the intersection only—it’s a T.  If you know the larger context, the form is easily considered a Y.

Now, let’s say you’re reading a biblical text.  And let’s say you come upon a sentence that contains an ambiguous word.  You might not even notice the ambiguity, but there is a range of possible meanings.  After all, you’re reading contextually, and the meaning might well exist beneath your conscious thoughts.

A person’s understanding of a word found in a text is far more likely to be on track if one is aware of the literary context, and the context is actually multi-tiered.  It might be described as including these:

  • first, the phrase
  • then the sentence/paragraph
  • then the larger context (perhaps the length of a chapter, more or less)
  • the entire (known) body of writings by a given author

At times the reader might be aided by “zooming in” on an isolated phrase or “verse” and then “zooming out” to take note of (among other things) other uses of the same word in the chapter, document, or book overall.  Greg Fay has written,¹ in fact, of “zooming out” to the book-level context.  From that vantage point, one examines the overall structure of the document, and it’s analogous to considering the intersection a Y, because the bigger picture is understood.  When certain questions emerge, the smaller context is necessary, but the combination of both is helpful.

Another important exercise in zoomed-out, book-level context—demonstrated by others, including my principal teacher, Gary Collier—is tallying and examining (in specific, smaller contexts!) the uses of a particular word (or cognate group) within a single letter or gospel.  Significant word-usage numbers sometimes emerge, as do significant new words, seemingly coined for novel purposes.

Although chapters and entire books could be filled with examples of both contextual and non-contextual readings, and of word-counts within documents, I will give just one example here:  Philippians 1:27.  If one reads that verse by itself, say, in the NIV, he finds this:

27 Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ. . . .

Other versions translate the “conduct” verb a bit differently; here and in many other versions, the thrust seems to be one of “good citizenship,” as that phrase is commonly heard in secular society.  “Be a good person . . . you know, be a good neighbor, like Jesus would want” would be a common understanding, but I think that reading is a bit off.  When one zooms out on the whole letter—and, admittedly, he will have to dig a bit!—he finds a similar word in 3:20.  While it is not a hermeneutical imperative to read one verse onto the other, these are the only two instances in Philippians of Greek words with the πολιτ- | polit- root, so the reader might begin to suspect a relationship.  Further, other passages within the letter deal directly and markedly with behavior within the body of Christ, so the “conduct yourselves” idea in 1:27 takes on a different flavor.  A zoomed-out reading of these “citizenship” texts takes the whole letter into consideration, along with zoomed-in readings of the vocabulary and grammar of 1:27 and 3:20 specifically.

Context matters, and the student/reader can benefit from the examination of larger contexts as well as smaller ones.  Contextualized interpretation improves the reading of maps and biblical texts.


¹ Greg Fay, Inkblotitis:  Rediscovering the Books of God.  See the “Read More” description section.

Drained (and re-filled?)

Garrison Keillor’s trademark opening line was “Well, it’s been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, Minnesota, my hometown, out there on the edge of the prairie.”  Well, it actually has not been a quiet week like that here.  Although there are quasi-prairies nearby, it seems that I’m on the edge of a ravine filled with unrest, not close enough to a peaceful prairie vista.

In my little, self-centered world, it’s been a hard week.  Not quiet, and not remote enough from problems near and far.  There’s been more activity and driving and worry and discouragement than most weeks, and that’s saying a lot.  I’ve felt undue and undeserved anxiety at work and at home.  My inward being is drained.

And so, I hurriedly grabbed a New Testament on the way out the door this morning, knowing I was going to be driving on open highways for two or three hours.  Reading as I drive is pretty easy for me, and I took the opportunity to read aloud the first three chapters of Colossians.  I read the conclusion, chapter 4, as I ate dinner.

Colossians is Pauline but not universally thought of as penned by Paul himself.  It does connect—in terms of literature, topics, and a few personages referred to—to Philemon, my favorite letter and the one I know the most about.  I’ve only really studied Colossians on my own once that I remember, and that was more than ten years ago.  Far more attention has been given to 1Corinthians, Philemon, 1Thessalonians, Ephesians, and Philippians.  I’m glad I read Colossians today.  It gives another glimpse into early Christian life, mission, relationship—and the high place of Jesus the Messiah within all of the above.

Tomorrow, I think I’ll turn back to Matthew, where I left off, around chapter 11.  (It’s actually pathetic that I didn’t complete reading that gospel in a couple of days, but at least I’m drawn back to it.)  I have other blogposts drafted, but wanted to post this first, almost in the moment.

A morning jaunt into Philippians

Today, in an almost surprising fit of “morning calm” before later storms, I began reading in Philippians.  I chose N.T. Wright’s Kingdom New Testament.  I only got through chapter 1.

First, I noticed that every paragraph but one in this version of chapter 1 uses the word “king.”  That reminded of two friends—one who loves this translation, and another who has questioned its appropriateness and/or applicability.  The one finds marvelous the pervasive “King” rendering where “Lord” typically appears.  I generally share that enthusiasm, but I’m also aware of the second friend’s concerns, which, as I recall, is that “king” and “kingdom” language are other-worldly and off-putting to the contemporary ear.

Second, I’m always aware of two connected words in Philippians—one in 1:27, and the other, in 3:20.  These words, which use a πολιτ | polit root, are sometimes translated in terms of citizenship.  They are not forms of the same word, but they are cognates (etymologically connected).  In the first instance, the word is a verb, and the subject is behavior as “citizens.”  The question is what the sphere is assumed.  In other words, is Paul enjoining the Philippians to act as good citizens in their secular sphere (a Roman colony), or in their “subcolony” of believers, or as citizens something else?  Of course there is a diachronic etymological tie to the English “politics,” but it should not be presumed that what we think of as “politics” in the West has anything to do with Paul’s words in Philippians.  The second polit word, in 3:20, is a noun.  The expression is sometimes rendered “our citizenship is in heaven.”  The picturesque term “commonwealth” is also given as a meaning of the word translated “citizenship.”  Either way, that passage is less elusive in my book, if not in Paul’s.

I continue to find interesting the word choices used by biblical authors.  I’m not overly concerned that N.T. Wright did not make an English verbal connection between 1:27 and 3:20.  Paul might not have specifically intended one, either.  At times I may over-read, and this might be one of those instances.  Shoot, I wrote a whole chapter in Subjects of the Kingdom about these words in Philippians, and it looks like the book is selling really cheaply, either used or new, so now’s your chance!

Subjects of the Kingdom: Christians, Conscience, Government, and the Reign of the King   

Brian Casey, © 2016 Encounter Music & Creative Services

Subjects of the Kingdom Blog (includes supplemental material)

Soon I’m going to be blogging about something I might regret but which I feel the need to say from a must-tell-the-truth, get-it-off-my-chest stance.  I decided to post this first, not because it relates, but because I wanted to say something positive!  Below are links to two previous posts on aspects of Philippians.  Both of these are more thoroughly thought out than the above.

Inkblots from Philippians

Important city, important words

A hamster wheel makes more sense

This showed up in my Facebook feed:

I say “no thanks” to this verse wheel, and here’s why:  every one of the “verses”—tied conveniently to an emotion or feeling—was conceived within a context and still exists within that context.  The expressions have authentic meaning when interpreted contextually.  Isolated verses cannot legitimately address emotions (or anything else).  Suggesting this “emotion wheel” is “Bible-based” is misleading.

What if I am afraid and anxious and am led, by a spin of this wheel, to Philippians 4?  Not a bad thing, right?  Philippians is a nice letter—full of joy, you know (but that’s another story)—that could help.  But if I’m under-informed about the original context, I might draw erroneous or overbroad conclusions about 4:6-7.  In order to interpret and apply those verses, one ought to know a few things, including (a) something of the conceptual center of the letter in chapter 2, and (b) the immediately preceding mention of the two women Euodia and Syntyche, for instance.  Is it wrong to think, “I shouldn’t be anxious and should trust the peace of God in Christ Jesus”?  Of course not.  I’d like to think, actually, that my understanding of Jesus and His ways, gained from a half-century of influences and attempts at following would in fact help with insights and applications to living.  I’d like to think that, but I still struggle with anxiety.  Whatever my issues or yours, it’s shallow and immature to think there’s a “verse” for everything.  The answers are not found in reading isolated verses.

Click here for more on interpreting Philippians

Furthermore, while Paul might not have made a great therapist in today’s estimation, I’m thinking he might agree that it’s dumb to tell someone who’s anxious “don’t be anxious” in the very moment that anxiety was pressing in.  Even if there were no contexts to consider, that’s just not very helpful.  If I need help in anxiety (and I do), the words “don’t be anxious” wouldn’t be the “exact Bible verse I need when I need it most.”

On the other hand, the more familiar I am with, say, Paul’s themes and rhetorical strategies in Romans, the more 8:28 could speak authentically to my need for confidence, or 3:23-24 could lead to a more adequate understanding of my guilt.  Now, scanning the wheel for a few more of the verses, my eyes fall on references to the gospels.  Appealing to the Jesus examples somehow feels better.  Could it be more justifiable to retreat to where Jesus was frustrated when I’m frustrated?  Any attention to the Messiah seems good, yet those gospel thoughts also stand within literary contexts.  The hope is not found in the superficial use of such things as this “emotion wheel.”  Why run around in circles or encourage others to do the same?  A hamster wheel makes more sense.

With all that said, I’m willing to allow that an under-informed appeal to a Bible “verse” by a person with no interpretation ability and no resources other than a pure heart might still be served by looking up a verse here and there.

The CEV

You wouldn’t know it by the total time I’ve spent on it in the last month or two, but I believe thoroughly in giving attention to responsible reading and study of scriptures.  One morning, I had a few choices in front of me, and for once, I made a good choice:  I picked up a Bible.

I chose a hardbound copy of the Contemporary English Version—which I thought, based on the stamp inside, had once been in the library of my grandfather.  As it turns out, the particular Andy Ritchie who owned this would have to have been my uncle, since the publication was after my grandfather’s death.  The two libraries must have gotten mixed at some point after my uncle moved into my grandparents’ house.   (Both Andys are now in the land of the eternally living.)

This copy of the CEV doesn’t appear to have been used much, and I knew next to nothing about the version, so I looked a few things up.  Apparently there is a perceived link with the Good News Bible (GNT), and the CEV is understood to have been produced for a lower reading level, incorporating these translation principles:

  • must be understood by people without stumbling in speech
  • must be understood by those with little or no comprehension of “Bible” language, and
  • must be understood by all

It would appear, then, that the “understandable” quality of the version was the guiding principle.  OK, good.  If a version can’t be understood, it’s not doing its job, right?  But there is more to it than that.  For years, when picking up a new version, I have been going to Romans 12 to see how the first two verses are rendered.  In my opinion, the CEV does a fine job of verse 1:

12 Dear friends, God is good. So I beg you to offer your bodies to him as a living sacrifice, pure and pleasing. That’s the most sensible way to serve God.

“Sensible” and “serve,” in my somewhat studied estimation, are proper, understandable translations of λογικὴν | logiken and λατρείαν | latreian.  Overall, this rendering rises above most other English translations.  On the other hand, the CEV does perhaps the worst job I’ve seen with Philemon 6:

As you share your faith with others, I pray they may come to know all the blessings Christ has given us.

The phrase “share your faith” throws the reader off, obscuring a more contextually aware understanding of the word koinonia, which rarely has anything to do with communicating words.  “Sharing” here is not about speaking evangelistically. Neither is “all the blessings” on point in this case.  The word behind “blessing” is singular.  Moreover, an important, verbal connection exists within this latter that appears to be ignored by the general, vague expression “all the blessings Christ has given us.”

A thorough reading of a fuller context will almost always lead to better interpretation.  Still, it is good to note that almost any Bible is better than no Bible at all, and when one reads more than one verse and gets a sense of the whole, he or she will emerge with something of value.

– B. Casey, 5/14/22 – 5/19/22

Dealing with communication received

Having received an e-mail reply from a student, I acknowledged receipt and proceeded, unintentionally, to bypass it in a process.  (Bad professor!)  Later, I wrote to this student—and three others who had not responded, as requested, three weeks prior.  The first student respectfully, diplomatically dealt with my missive to make sure I had indeed received the earlier response.  I apologized for having missed the first mail.  (Apologies can be so important.  Better professor.)

Some of us are better at face-to-face communications than email or texting (or handwriting a letter or note!), and vice versa, but it’s a given that some communications aren’t dealt with appropriately.  I had received the student’s initial communication but had not aptly dealt with it.  She did, on the other hand, adeptly deal with my missive, which was out of place in her case.

I regularly receive communiques from the school district, from workplaces, and other entities.  Although they purport to be important, many are not even useful or welcome.  Some “important notifications” turn out, practically speaking, to be unimportant, despite the requirement to send them.¹  Holiday and birthday greetings from insurance companies and dental offices are just weird.  It’s all part of living in the Information Age, I suppose.  Some mass e-mails even come from “no-reply” addresses—contributing to a general feeling of isolation and insignificance in the world.  (Perhaps this observation arises because I’m an introvert with a certain personality type.  Perhaps it’s also on target.)

The school’s notices seem about 90% non-applicable.  A quick assessment of texts received in the last couple of months indicates a lower percentage—maybe 50-70%—yet the subjective sense is important here, too:  if it seems to me that 90% of texts are not applicable, I am less likely actually to pay attention to the significant ones.  About half of these texts seem to be about the frequent combining of two bus routes, presumably because there are not enough bus drivers.²  Most of the rest are about regular trend reports (not interested) or sports events (not applicable at this time).  Then, when a real need for news occurs—say, about parent-teacher conferences or missing assignments or even reports of school violence—the news doesn’t come as quickly as I’d prefer, and sometimes, not at all.  The balance seems off, and the validity of some communications, questionable.  How do I respond to the unimportant school communications?  Most of the time, with inner annoyance and a quick swipe of the hand.  Every now and then, I’ll attempt to make a difference in some respectful way.  Sometimes, I just grunt or harrumph.

Scriptural communications are “received,” too, although the communication is not direct.  How do we deal with those things?  The imperatival communiques in the New Testament (“missives” such as epistles and letters, and other passages) ought to be understood first in their respective literary and historical contexts, without leaping to assume the requests for response are directly applicable.  We might wonder what the first hearers/readers did with communications such as these:

“. . . you should follow the directions I gave to the churches in Galatia. . . .  each of you should set aside and save something from your surplus in proportion to what you have, so that no collections will have to be made when I arrive. (1 Cor 16:1-2)”

“Therefore, as you go, disciple people in all nations. . . .”  (Matt 28:19)

“Keep on rejoicing in the Lord at all times. I will say it again: Keep on rejoicing! Let your gracious attitude be known to all people.”  (Philippians 4)

“Each of you must know how to control his own body in a holy and honorable manner . . . .”  (1Thess 4)

“Go and do what he did.”  (Luke 10)

All passages quoted, context-less on purpose, from the International Standard Version, © 1996-2011

Now:  what do (should) we do with such (sampled) exhortations?  How should we “deal” with these communications?  Careful.  We mustn’t assume the response should be the same as in the 1st century.  Of course a full understanding of the context will be of assistance here.  The Luke quotation has been humorously appended to “Judas went out and hanged himself” in order to make the point, but context is no matter to be laughed off.  The 1Corinthians passage is well known but not often pondered in its historical context and the resultant, possible applications in our day.³

Romans 10 contains no imperatives at all, so I didn’t quote from there, yet many Christ-followers seem to insist on specific understandings of specifics within that chapter.  Romans 12, on the other hand, has six imperatives, but it’s not necessarily clear how to attend to them.  In order to interpret and apply the Philippians passage above, (1) one ought to know something of the conceptual center of the letter in chapter 2, and (2) one should also be familiar with the immediately preceding mention of two women Euodia and Syntyche, along with the notion of partnership in spreading the good news.  (Aside:  Philemon also makes a point of such partnership, but the similarity is to be explored, not assumed identical.)  The 1Thess quote is situated in a context of behavioral response to the Christ-message, but the knowledge that sexual purity is a feature of the specific context will help in interpreting this exhortation.

So what do we do with the communications in the New Testament?  Not necessarily the same things as the early Christ-followers did.  On the other hand, it’s far too easy to be lazy, not responding in any sense at all.


¹ Financial, insurance, and medical enterprises are regulated so much that employees in these arenas go comatose.  The “important communications” that check regulatory “boxes” have a stultifying effect, leading to overload—and the inability to dig down to the truly significant.

² One might query whether two routes are needed in the first place.  Perhaps further communication could occur.

³ Misapplication of this text is rampant.  See these posts for more:

An ill-conceived brochure on tithing – Earnestly Speaking

Translations of 1Cor 16:1-6

“Kind of”: a day’s observations

These observations began, oddly enough, when I had two unrelated thoughts that both involved the phrase “kind of.”  So, this is kind of about “kind of,” but not really!

I appreciated the smiling face, the greeting, and the handshake as I joined a gathered group this morning.  Three minutes late, I felt kind of awkward as I tried to decide where to sit, noticing that the largest spaces available were near the few who were wearing masks.  The worship activities, as per usual just about anywhere, were of mixed value, but I did get to participate with heart and voice, and I was glad to have been there.

Not counting the two or three in Walmart to whom I said, “Excuse me,” I have spoken to only one other person all day.  This lack of interaction is probably not the best thing, whether it’s Sunday or any other day; we are created for relationship.  That said, last week was terribly trying, so it was good for me to have solitude and quietude today, and I’ve been kind of productive.  Still, toward the end of the day, I would love to have sat down with a friend to talk about important things.

I appreciate not being a slave to my phone. I typically only need to charge every other day.  Yesterday, I used it more than usual but still didn’t need to charge.  Today, I started at 16% and am at 5% as I finalize this post.  I also appreciate fresh air and had some when I rode to the gym.  I feel kind of sad when I see people masking themselves and not taking advantage of good, clean air.

I’ve taken down most of the seasonal decorations.  I could say this was in honor of my paternal grandfather, but actually, it’s just because I like change and have seen these items for the last few weeks, so I’m kind of done with them.  Anyway, Granddaddy Casey was always eager to get rid of the live spruce tree the day after Christmas.  He was a good man who loved his wife, his boys, and his three grandchildren.  I can still see his smile and kind of hear his laugh, although he’s been gone more than 40 years.

As I compose this, I’m listening to Mannheim Steamroller. (I suppose the Xmas CDs will stay out for a few more days.)  I recall Dana, a talented community instrumentalist who became a friend seven years ago, and who was quite the the Mannheim enthusiast.  I remember that she said, when we were playing a Mannheim arrangement for the holiday season, that the tempos had to match those on the recordings. “Mannheim Steamroller tempos are kind of a big deal to me,” she told me.  I did my best and have remembered that ever since.

As I prepare for another ensemble semester, it feels kind of precarious to attempt once again to balance various needs and constraints:

  • Ensemble learning trajectory
  • Students
  • Non-students
  • Calendar
  • Family
  • Personal artistic needs and vision

I have to remind myself that, even when it feels kind of daunting, it’s all about the people and the music-making.  And boy, we’ve got some great music to experience together in the spring semester.

I’m also preparing for something even more significant and more daunting.  This will be the 8th or 9th time that I’ve had the opportunity to teach about the tiny, beautiful, and replete-with-meaning letter from Paul to Philemon.  I’m going through some new material, getting my thoughts together, honing my translations and structuring the material for three class sessions with a group of very devoted students of ancient texts (see BiblicalConversation.com).  I’ve read or re-read articles by C.H. Dodd, Timothy Mitchell, Tavis Bohlinger, Wikipedia (slavery in NT times), and also a thesis that I found subpar.  Philemon, some might say, is kind of small potatoes, but I beg to differ.  I mean, yeah, it’s only 25 verses, but for one has kind of limited training and very limited time and energy like me, I figure a short letter is the most I should attempt to teach!

I recorded this podcast as part of the introduction.  It’s about 12 minutes long, annoyingly beset by road noise, and not professionally done, but I hope it whets your appetite for more just as it did mine.  I hope you’ll listen.  Click the link below.  You can even set the podcast to play faster if you want.

Intro:  Philemon’s 25 Verses (podcast)

– B. Casey, 12/26/21

If a person is influenced by . . . (2 of 2)

In the last post, I retreated to my childhood memory of what is apparently a well-known piece, “Children Learn What They Live.”  There’s a lot of truth in the notion that we are products of upbringing and environment.  Still, although our world is broken and vulnerable to the ramifications of sin, some things can be overcome.  I suppose each mature individual’s task is to root out traces of negative influence, in order to prevail over it, all the while benefiting from influences deemed constructive.

A few days ago, in the context of pondering the most appropriate ways of receiving and interpreting scripture texts, I was pointed to this review of a collection of chapters by different scholars.  Toward the end, a mention appears of this contribution:  “Paul and the Authority of Scripture:  A Feminist Perception.”  According to the reviewer, the author “contests the assumption that Scripture is authoritative in the sense of power-over (i.e. domination) and is thereby used by Paul to obtain submission to his views.  Instead, she explores alternative views of power . . . .”  It is ostensibly good to explore alternative views of power and power structures, yet the presumption that any long-held view is automatically culpable would be inappropriate.  I ask, what is this “power-over” idea, and why is it presumed to be a bad thing?  Who thinks in terms of “domination” but a creature trapped within a culture gone awry?  Of course, many women have not been treated well, but the effects of this malady are not always those spouted by the most vocal “feminists.”  (Not to mention that women aren’t the only ones subject to mistreatment.)

I submit that if we are subjects of the King,¹ we accept that a benevolent sort of “power-over” exists.  The differentiation between good and bad uses of power involves vantage point:

If one is willing to subject himself to a power-figure and believes in the figure’s goodness, then “power” can be good.

On the other hand, if one is subjected against his will, the exertion of power is likely negative.

The vantage point of the “subjected” one is both sensitive and sensitized, and it ought to be given attention.  The other side of the equation—that of the power-wielder—is at least as significant, though.  No one should consider himself to wield coercive power; moreover, beyond the behind-the-scenes thoughts, how the person actually exerts power in relation to others is probably more important.  For the believer, a crucial fact is in evidence, too:  coercion of humans has not been a hallmark of the God I read about in our scriptures.

God certainly doesn’t want his followers to coerce others.  “Power-over” can certainly be a bad thing, and “domination” never seems to carry a good connotation in English, whereas God’s “dominion” generally does sound positive to the believer.  Again, vantage point can be key.  By that I mean that if I detect “domination” or find someone to be exerting dominating force over me, that is a bad thing from my vantage point, whereas if one has power but does not domineer or “lord it over,” he or she could be just fine, holding and using power well.  Words and their use can be central to later analysis, but if you are the one being dominated by a power-hungry person, in the moment, I don’t suppose the words matter!

A feminist these days might focus on gender-related imbalance of power and influence, or on gender inequality in the workplace or the political playing field.  Here, in the context of Pauline literature and theology, I would propose that, if one hobnobs with “feminists,” whatever that means, one might just come out with feminist-influenced views that are anachronistic or even fanciful.  In this case, since I haven’t read the full review or the chapter to which it refers here, I won’t presume to say how much “feminism” constitutes an unhelpful or inappropriate bias.  I’ll merely say that an honest person in 1820 (or 120!) who read this opinion would have gone, “Huh?!”  Of course scriptures carry authority:  authority of their author(s).  God, while not marked by coercion, is rightly viewed as holding power and authority.  Said authority might not be accepted by the reader, and it might, in a contemporary view, end in objection.

Just as with children, adults learn what they live, and they can pass what they’ve experienced on to others.  Does a contemporary “feminist” hold entirely original ideas, or has influence been present in the development of ideas?  The wording “feminist perception” is a fair one, and I appreciate that it was included in the title referred to above.  Perhaps the author mentored by someone who had been mistreated by a domineering, patriarchal misogynist (how ’bout those inflammatory words?).  If one has been subjected to a power-over, coercive force, it’s understandable that that person might see life through a “domination” lens.  The influence of others—particularly, others who are articulate and/or verbal—can be significant, and can lead to bias.  Reader-interpreters and all thinkers ought to seek awareness of our influences and biases, and in being aware, we will ideally achieve reasonable balance and fair-mindedness.  A feminist perception, or any other developed perception, may then be considered circumspectly, rather than giving said viewpoint an unchallenged, powerful place in a given arena.

Paul was to some extent a product of his time.  In another, equally important analysis, he was an instrument “played” by God.  (Does the player of an instrument have bad or good power over the instrument?)  Even with my 20th- and 21st-century baggage, I don’t perceive an improper use of power on Paul’s part.  Although there are some seemingly coercive passages in his letters, I find them appropriate in the grand scheme.  Still, I am more partial to his tone in the beautiful letter to Philemon—in which he appeals to the addressee based on love and relationship rather than using authority in a way that we, through our glasses, might find dominating or authoritarian.

¹ Coda  All this talk of authority and dominion and subjection naturally leads the believer to thoughts of the Kingdom of God and its King.  Please check out my other blog, Subjects of the Kingdom.

Judging views: Israel and the Church (1 of 2)

Two posts will conclude a series on judging.¹  These will briefly evaluate (assess, judge) one of Three Views on Israel and the Church—which happens to be a book title (see below).  The particular judgment on these Christian scholars’ views is important to me in several respects:

  • I want to challenge myself in a scholarly thought process:  I want to be able to think through something with a clear head and without prejudice, inasmuch as that kind of thing is even possible.
  • In December, a dispensationalist preacher showed gracious patience with me throughout a good conversation.  He has judged a few things quite differently from the way I’ve judged them.  I want to give his doctrines, previously relatively unfamiliar, some attention.
  • I actively pursue an overarching philosophy that sees God’s Kingdom as inherently different from, and opposed to, the governments of humans, including those of the U.S. and current-day Israel.
  • . . . and probably more

Three Views on Israel and the Church:  Perspectives on Romans 9-11
Jared Compton and Andrew Naselli, eds. (Kregel Academic, 2018)

Briefly stated, here are the three views:

  1. One position holds that Romans 9-11 promises a future salvation and role for national Israel (argued in this book by Michael Vlach).
  2. Another view argues that Romans 9-11 promises a future salvation but not a role for ethnic Israel.  For these theologians, Israel therefore plays a typological role in biblical theology even while maintaining a special status (argued by Fred Zaspel and Jim Hamilton).
  3. The third view holds that Romans 9-11 does not promise a future salvation or role for ethnic Israel at all (argued by Ben Merkle).

I began with the Vlach chapter.  He asserted out of the gate that “national Israel remains strategic to God’s purposes and does not lose its significance with the arrival of Jesus and the church” (21-22).  Vlach’s overarching affirmation is that God’s promises, as stated in the Torah and in Israelite prophecy, (1) are explicitly and forever connected with the people of the Abrahamic and Davidic covenants,² and (2) are not transcended by/in the church of Jesus Christ.  He makes a particularly large hermeneutical pole-vault in asserting that “Jesus’s role . . . involves the restoring of Israel as a nation” (23).

Vlach engages in some exegesis and valid word-study analysis, for instance, with some good commentary on the NT use of the prepositional phrase ἄχρι οὗ | achri hou, which he finds indicative of Israel’s future conversion to belief in Jesus.  Should the living Jews come to believe, terrific!  This phrase does seem to suggest that.  Vlach also evidences some contextual awareness, yet he is not above prejudice:  he finds, without evident regard for grammar, syntax, or other structural textual elements, that the Romans 9:6 statement that God’s word has not failed is a “springboard” for the ensuing material.  His treatment of God’s “selectivity” and the “remnant” is unconvincing.  While I agree with Vlach that Paul suggests God has not abandoned Israel (38), he jumps to a conclusion in stating “the remnant is not all there is to God’s plans for Israel” (39).

In dealing with this view, to which I’m naturally opposed, I remain virtually unmoved.  I’m still a trifle surprised that many could hold the view that all of ethnic Israel will ultimately be saved.  At least none of the three is overtly pays attention to today’s political Israel!

I’ve mostly enjoyed being challenged by coming into contact with these distinct views, articulated well by their representatives.  I confess, though, that I don’t believe I achieved much of an open mind in this investigatory exercise.  Frankly, in scanning, I found little to convince me that I should pay rapt attention to a different view, so these are merely some evaluative comments from my current vantage point.

Next:  conclusion


¹ Several posts on judging this or that may be accessed at this link.  I’ll also offer here an ancillary series on the OT book of Judges.

² When he adds “new covenant” (emph. mine, bc) alongside Abraham and David, I am unclear on whether he might be distinguishing Jeremiah’s verbiage (31:31-41) from that commonly associated with Jesus of Nazareth.