1) In (Sahidic) Coptic, “to dwell with” sometimes means “to be married”. “Dwell” can also be taken as “sit”. So, (and kids, this is bad, bad, BAD usage of etymology):

“to be married” = “to sit with”

Which is an interesting thought.

2) In Ancient Greek, σύζυγος means

“yoked together”, or, “marriage partner”

(if used as a substantive).

Which is another interesting thought.

Wherefore he ran wyth a corage unto the Elephante in the myddest of the hoste, smytynge them doune of bothe the sydes, and slewe manye aboute hym. So wente he to the Elephantes feete, and gatte him under him, and slew hym: then fel the Elephant down upon him, and ther he died.

Civilized folk (and communists) will be glad to know that in some ancient manuscripts (e.g. 614 and 2147), Paul did this “after also giving to us” (επιδιδους και ημιν).

I’ve done a fair share of deconstructing my perception of God, and of Jesus. I’d like to think that I’m past putting the concept of “God” in a specific race or gender role; for Jesus, specifically, I’m more than willing to accept as his human nature a male Jew of the first century. But you guys: I still see you as white people.

May I speak openly, to your angelic faces? I don’t want to see you like this anymore. Thank you: for being the pillars of consciousness along this journey. For pointing out how far I’ve still got to go in order  to let go of myself. May your memory always serve to remind me, that plastering over does not remove; that skin-deep transformation of perception is not transformation at all, but trickery. Yes, I’ll leave you as signposts.

But now, I bid you adieu.

The uniqueness, at least from my perspective, was the medium through which I participated – twitter.* To my delightful surprise, I could follow a lot of what was happening. I am no expert on the subject – the conference was that of the Southern African Missiological Society – but I could gauge pretty well what everyone was arguing. This, even though what I received where pretty much only short bursts of information. True, someone with almost no knowledge of the subject would probably have lost the thread; but this will be the case in “real-life” participation too.

Some of the speakers had put their papers online, and links to these papers were passed around on twitter. This meant that

a) one could read up on the matters later on, and

b) people attending the conference could probably follow the speaker even better, if they had internet access.

To illustrate another useful aspect of twitter’s ability to share links quickly: a few links to speakers’ blogs made the rounds. The audience (even those abroad) could get a general background perspective on the speaker – and these links and blogs are, of course, useful for the future too. Not only the blogs, but also simply other twitter users participating came to my attention. I will hardly go looking for twitter users; let’s face it: the 140 characters biography say almost nothing. But a shared interest, in this case identified by the hashtag #SAMS2011, did point to some interesting voices that I will listen to from now on.

Among other things, the usefulness of twitter for missiology was discussed (in a report back paper, worth the read!). I would like to emphasize here that twitter is a relatively cheap and accessible means of communication. Added to this, Africa has rather good cellphone reception (contrary to what some may think). The SAMS conference set up a screen with incoming tweets in the background – meaning just about everyone could make themselves “heard”.

I’m not hailing twitter as THE solution, or as the new way of holding conferences. In fact, I think a lot got lost in summary, so to speak. Some questions were left unanswered; some themes dropped, as is the twitter way. Obviously a lot of non-verbal communication went flying. And although meeting new people electronically was great, it’s no substitute for meeting someone in the flesh.

A lot of useful academic discussion (most useful academic discussion?) occurs after the day is done; over lunch; over dinner; over coffee. I’m sad that I’ve missed it – this time. Nevertheless, I at least got SOME input.

By the way, I’m sure some of the papers will make their way into Missioniala, SAMS’s journal.

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FOOTNOTES

* Members of the Society of Biblical Literature have been using twitter as a medium dating at least as far back as 2009, through the hashtags #SBL2009, #SBL10, etc. My hashtag search for the International meeting – I’m assuming it will be #SBL11 – is already on. I’ve also participated in other such experiments, where I’ve had a similar experience.

The same can be said of the Gospel of Matthew as a whole. By looking at Matthew’s depictions of his characters, the time in which the narrative is set, the “atmosphere” that is created, etc., one learns a lot about what he is trying to say. In this vein, I’d like to make a few remarks upon Matthew 25:31-46 – the so-called Last Judgement section.

Just to give a bit of background, Matthew has five big discourses cemented in-between the narrative parts. The first and most well-known of these is the Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5-7). Chapters 23-25 forms the last one; of which verse 31-46 forms the last part.

At the start of this section of text, we are told that the Son of Man will “sit” on his “throne of glory”. “Sit” is very important here – because the bigger discourse starts with the pharisees and the scribes “sitting” on the “seat of Moses”. But wait! There is more! We are also told right at the start of the discourses, in the Sermon on the Mount (chap 5:1), that Jesus “sat” and taught the disciples.* So RIGHT at the start and RIGHT at the end we’ve got a reference to teaching (and to authority, and interpretation of the Law). We’ll return to that shortly.

Two ways to stress something (if one doesn’t have recourse to bold or italics etc.), is by repeating something or saying it V-E-R-Y   S-L-O-W-L-Y. Matthew does exactly this in his story of the Last Judgement. Which is kind of strange, because we tend to remember the following as being the main thought of the passage:

The Son of Man will come, He will judge people by separating them into “sheep” on the right and “goats” on the left, the former will go to heaven and the latter to hell.

Very well, a summary is always shorter than the main text. But what is interesting is that Matthew repeats a VERY long piece of text (by the standards of discourse in the Gospel; and seeing that words were used rather more sparingly in ancient texts). He repeats it not twice, not thrice, but FOUR times! It reads (NIV):

35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

This is repeated two times in the positive** – for the “sheep”; and two times in the negative, for the “goats”. In other words, Matthew repeats this AND makes us read it V-E-R-Y   S-L-O-W-L-Y. Obviously, for Matthew, this thing that happens in the very present, not somewhere in the future (the judgement somewhere in the future / eschatology), is a key theme in the passage.

Now, back to the pharisees/scribes (P/S) vs. Jesus debate, into which I won’t go too much here. Matt 5-7 is generally seen as a “new” take on the Law – against that of the P/S. In the bigger scheme: Jesus taught with authority (7:29); the P/S were given authority but used it hypocritically (chap 23). There is also a final contrast between chap 23 and chap 25 – the final two opposites. In light of the P/S’ hypocritical nature, the drawn out and repetitive theme of actually doing and caring as being THE decisive factor becomes critical. The Last Word on Judgement, then, is not on the interpretation of the Law, but on doing it. We should always, always add this element to our eschatological understanding of this passage.

P.S. Gosh! I love what I do for a living.

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FOOTNOTES:

* Sitting was the normal position for someone to teach in the ancient world.

** Matthew does some fancy footwork here. For the surprise of the “sheep” surprises the reader: these people were given permission to enter, yet still they pause to ask why. Although this may naturally serve some other purpose, it gives the opportunity to repeat this key theme in the speech of the “sheep” again!

I wanted to spew forth critique on the #ifoundjesus hash tag. In my selfrighteous attitude towards religion. But, like a Balaam of old, I am unable to do so.

My critique would have gone something along this line (which might make sense to the reader):

One can find Jesus everywhere. In fact, the #ifoundjesus hash tag that has been making its rounds on Twitter is a running commentary on this fact. The problem is, some people, the present writer included, listen between the lines. Thus, a tweet sounding something like this (extreme example):

#ifoundjesus in that He gave me a house and a farm and a huge bank account and lots of friends and … stuff #praiseyethelord

is immediately converted (and rightly so, I still maintain) into:

Jesus loves me more than other folks. Like poor sinful people sitting in the rain without a house and a farm and a bank account. #awesomeme #thelordismyshepherd

Yes, one finds Jesus everywhere. Which means every profane thing is sacred – or the other way round, depending on one’s religious tastes. (For this is a question which hinges between agnosticism and mysticism.) Consequently, the embarrassing situation above is pointed out in even greater contrast.

I could continue along these lines. My arguments have some merit, I would say – at least philosophically. However, the #ifoundjesus #thelordismyshepherd tweeter above would find him/herself a very #lonelysheep in the “real” world of Twitter.

I refer the reader to the #ifoundjesus hash tag on Twitter to defeat my own thesis above.

For, #ifoundjesus in the witness of others.

The really interesting part surfaced in the Q&A session. A comment was put out there that, unlike the other (Greek and Roman) traditions, which simply relegated tough questions like why pain and suffering exists to the realm of myth*, the book of Job actively levels critique and asks questions. Even more to the point: the book of Job spills into the “real world” by challenging the reader – if one is confronted by pain and suffering, is it simply God and the devil betting up there? The book challenges our interpretation in the interaction that we have with the real, physical world every day. The first scenes in the book open the possibility for us, the readers, to doubt the intention of God – in real life!

Perhaps this discovery is not new. In fact, to me, it seems very akin to Walter Brueggemann’s “core testimony” and “countertestimony“, as he developed it in Old Testament Theology: An Introduction. (Again, how I understood / remember it – I’m no old testament theologian.) Perhaps, too, Prof Noort’s paper especially struck me because of recent discussions and a recent blog post by a friend of mine on why we read the Bible. To summarise (and probably do violence to) his conclusions: one should be willing to disagree with the Bible.

In fact, to  do exegesis and always “agree” with the biblical text is simply dishonest. This would in many cases actually imply that one disrespects the author(s)’s intentions** and misuses the Bible to suit one’s own purposes. Sometimes, the best way to respect the text is to disagree with it – just as one can only be a true friend to someone if one is willing to also level respectful critique*** (and be willing to take the same – NB!). In reflecting on our tradition, this might be called an outside argument for reading the Bible – to honestly, honestly, honestly and respectfully read our tradition, and also point out how we disagree with it. Although it is still part of us.

In reflecting on the exposition of the book of Job with which I started this post, I would like to supply too an inside argument for reading and disagreeing with the Bible: the aspect of debate has been part of our tradition since – well, since time immemorial. In this we discover ourselves and are, again, formed by our tradition – even as we are shaping it.

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FOOTNOTES

*With myth, in this case, I mean mythological language and stories about the Gods. One might argue that this is also the case with Job – that it is a mythical telling of a heavenly scene. This argument has some merit; but my focus here is on the implicit critique that goes along with the narration.

** Yes, I know the “author’s intentions” is impossible to determine. But there are some cases where we can be pretty sure that what the author meant is not how we understand it today. To me, this also underlines the importance of historical-critical studies of the Bible. One should at least attempt to understand the intentions of the author(s); otherwise, one is misusing the text.

*** I thank all my friends for their past and future critique; also on this blogpost.

The youth hostel was an old castle – part of it is now a museum. (Which is well worth visiting. I got a free ticket to a cake and coffee in the museum coffee shop – and shamelessly claimed it.) The youth hostel and its surroundings affords great views on the city of Passau:

One also has a great view on where the three rivers (Danube, Inn, Ilz) come together – which not only  made Passau a very important trade city back in the day, but is also simply quite scenic:

Walking around Passau was a pleasure. Of course, there are churches to visit (aren’t there always!?), and no visit to Passau would be complete without taking a look at the world’s biggest church organ (OK, to be honest, no visit would be complete without actually hearing the world’s biggest church organ. Which makes my visit incomplete, unfortunately.)

The old city isn’t that big, so I soon found myself strolling along the rivers, reflecting on my whole experience. In short, it was fun; but it is always a good idea to have a plan B. Even more poignantly impressed on my mind, however, was the fact that it was always a good idea to travel with someone. Although an introvert, I did find parts of my trip – well, tedious, even though I was surrounded by such amazing scenery. Had I a travel buddy handy, the experience would quite probably have been very different. Not that I am in any way regretful of the whole tour: it was indeed great, and I enjoyed the biggest part of it. Most of the parts I visited are to some extent “off the beaten track”; at least, with regard to tourists from outside Germany. Which was rather refreshing. They were all quite spectacular, too; some sights I will never forget.

On the last day, I rose before dawn to catch my last train – back to Münster. Aah! Münster! What a beautiful city! To top it all off, I had two friends, a Lecker pizza and a new apartment waiting for me. And a bunch of adventures, which I will share, all in good time. (At the moment, I’m behind with both a tour to Greece and to Switzerland. Oops.)

There’s this thing in Greek. It’s called the genitive absolute, and mark my words, it’s absolutely fabulous. I’ve been trying to point this out to students, but, I fear, many of them just … don’t see the point. It’s all too grammary for them. So, maybe this will help – even for the unitiated. It’s a very short story in Matthew (9:32-34), here’s the first part in the updated NIV version:

³² While they were going out, a man who was demon-possessed and could not talk was brought to Jesus. ³³ And when the demon was driven out, the man who had been mute spoke. The crowd was amazed and said, “Nothing like this has ever been seen in Israel.”

Now, I won’t go on about blah blah you’ve got to read the Greek to understand it. I’ll just imply that and continue. Notice how there is no mention of the action of driving out the demon, at least what concerns the story-line: the mute man comes, the ex-mute man speaks. One can see this in the English (“and when the demon was driven out”), but it’s even more clear in the Greek: enter the aforementioned champion grammar-thingy of the day, our genitive absolute.

To explain the important work of the GA in lay-man’s terms: it takes two sentences, scrunches them together; the most important sentence pops out on top. Thus, and mostly so in narrative, the GA kind of pushes one sentence to the side, while the main sentence is placed in the spotlight. This is exactly what happens at the start of verse 33. Not only the act of exorcism, but also the demon itself has been assigned a second place in the grammar. In Matthew’s story, the poor thing had no chance! There’s no battle, no reprimand, no … nothing. Just a storyteller who tells us: let’s leave this to the side for now, it would’ve happened anyway. (In plain Afrikaans: Gaan sit in die hoekie, demoon, die grootmense wil bietjie gesels.)

I feel obligated to point out that one shouldn’t go overboard with genitive absolutes (or grammar, for that matter), sometimes it’s just – grammar. For instance, verse 32 also starts with a GA, but in this case, it simply sets the scene for what is to follow. (The people left, they’re not in the picture anymore, a new stage is being set.)

Also, the story continues – verse 34 is still part of the story.

³⁴ But the Pharisees said, “It is by the prince of demons that he drives out demons.”

But since I just wanted to highlight something in the story, and not explain the story itself, I’ll leave you to it. (But here’s a tip: Matt 12:24 and following might help.)

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FOOTNOTES

Verse 33 starts like this in Greek: καὶ ἐκβληθέντος τοῦ δαιμονίου ἐλάλησεν ὁ κωφός.