[Pentecost+12] and the Word became flesh (and dwelt among us)

The sayings of the wise are like goads, and like nails firmly fixed are the collected sayings that are given by one shepherd. Of anything beyond these, my child, beware. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.

Ecclesiastes 12:11-12 (NRSV)

Someone pointed out that the author here doesn't warn that all this saying and thinking and studying &c. leads to a weariness of the mind but rather to a weariness of the flesh.

We talked about a potential interpretation that we can't spend all of our time thinking and studying -- we have to actually live it out in action. We are embodied creatures who live in the world.

We also talked about the idea that one can't be a Christian in isolation -- it requires being in community.

On Sunday, Jeff M. [sermon link] introduced the metaphor of climbing the "Jesus Tree" -- he talked about the naturalist John Muir who, in the midst of a fierce snowstorm, climbed a tall tree, bringing his scientist, storyteller, and mystic selves all to the experience; and how, similarly, we bring all of who we are to our journey of faith.

We talked about the fact that each of us needs to climb the tree ourselves ("nobody else, can climb it for me..." /sings) but that we can still support each other in that journey.

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A number of people were really intrigued by the unusual word "goad."

I'm unused to it as a noun, but familiar with it as a verb, so I admitted to not having looked up a definition as part of my facilitator prep. Someone else had looked it up, and apparently it was a pointed stick used to spur or guide livestock.

Someone else talked about their experience working on a farm, herding sheep. Apparently sheep are really stupid -- they'll run uphill into the rocky mountains, for hazelnuts which aren't there, as the humans try to lure them (with food!) to safe home. A mob mentality takes over. Does this sound familiar? Not really how we'd like to imagine ourselves.

I've heard various sermons about how sheep (much like the disciples are often portrayed as) are very un-intelligent animals, but hearing this first-hand account brought it home for me in a way that previous talks hadn't.

(Goats, in contrast, are apparently devious. Very smart. Unlike sheep, who arguably have mud for brains.)

Someone else pointed out that for the people whose livelihoods depend on them, animals are really important -- for example, if a calf were born prematurely and it was too cold out, farmers would literally bring it into their own house and warm it up in the bathtub.

Talking about sheep, we raised the idea that maybe goads were necessary -- that if the sheep won't respond to any positive directing, maybe this is your only option.

Someone said, "I hope it doesn't work like that for humans." My immediate thought was that I know some people for whom that would be appealing ("thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me"), and I could give you a reading list from Patrick Cheng's Radical Love: An Introduction to Queer Theology on sacramental BDSM (and/or BDSM readings of Biblical texts) -- but I'll leave that aside for the time being.

I've been doing a "chronological" read-through of the New Testament with a friend of mine, and in Acts 26:14, Paul, in telling the story of his conversion, relates:

When we had all fallen to the ground, I heard a voice saying to me in the Hebrew language, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? It hurts you to kick against the goads."

I was reminded of the line from Johnny Cash's "The Man Comes Around" -- "It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks" and the Internet says yes, it's just a translational difference (goads=pricks).

Someone on Yahoo!Answers talked about it in reference to oxen who are used to till the soil -- "if the ox refused the command indicated by the farmer, the goad would be used to jab or prick the ox. Sometimes the ox would refuse this incentive by kicking out at the prick. As result, the prick would be driven deeper into the flesh of the rebellious animal. The more the animal rebelled, the more the animal suffered."

We touched on this idea at Bible study -- that maybe part of why the correction is painful is because we're resisting it.

Wikipedia cites Nancy M. P. Tischler and Ellen J. McHenry's 2006 All Things in the Bible: An Encyclopedia of the Biblical World:

The image of prodding the reluctant or lazy creature made this a useful metaphor for sharp urging, such as the prick of conscience, the nagging of a mate, or the "words of the wise," which are "firmly embedded nails" in human minds (Eccles. 12:11-12).

People who have shaped my thinking on things, I will often comment that I have a little them in my brain -- reminding me of perspectives that I don't necessarily share but which I know are held with deep conviction and passion by people I care about. The idea of teachings (whether from our inherited Scriptures or elsewhere) functioning in this way is appealing to me.

But there are also many other things that Jesus did; if every one of them were written down, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.

John 21:25 (NRSV)

Earlier, John said, "Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of [the] disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the [Child] of God, and that through believing you may have life in [Jesus'] name" (John 20:30-31).

Is the point that this is all we need? That we don't need a complete record of Jesus' every saying and doing? (though if anyone wants to create variations on "Google Exodus: What if Moses had Facebook?" I support you)

Would John then dismiss the synoptic gospels as superfluous -- arguing that he had written down all that was necessary for life in Christ? Where do we draw the line?

On Sunday, someone commented about the Ecclesiastes passage, emphasizing the "ONE shepherd" -- implying that receiving a consistent message is useful, versus a cacophony of conflicting messages.

This interpretation is at first pass appealing, but I don't think the idea that there is a consistent message from a single voice holds up when it comes to the actual Bible -- and I don't mean the false dichotomy between the "vengeful" God of the Tanakh vs. the "merciful" God of the New Testament, or the "gotcha" discrepancies of, e.g., apparently conflicting accounts of the same story.

The Scriptures are a record of people over hundreds of years struggling to understand and draw close to the Divine; we know even within our own communities people differ greatly on these issues, so it may be no surprise that the Biblical writers also express a variety of views (sometimes even within the same author or character).

Can this multiplicity help rather than hinder our wisdom?

Even Jesus gets schooled -- the Syrophoenician woman (Mark 7:25-30/Matthew 15:22-28) asks for healing for her daughter, and Jesus basically says, "I didn't come for your people," and she argues back and Jesus concedes.

If even Jesus could learn and grow from outside(r) perspectives, certainly so can we.

Jesus often taught, "You have heard it said... but I say to you..." The Word of God is always being made new -- to be understood anew in each changing context.

So, to close with the last issue we raised at Bible study: How much do we need to be authentic to the "original" text?

I definitely think there's value in examining the specific language in the "original" texts and what it likely meant in its particular cultural context. But I think for proclaiming the Good News, updating that language to better fit our own cultural context can often be more effective.

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So, Beloved, feel free to share in comments (anonymously/pseudonymously if you prefer) your thoughts on the questions/issues raised above -- on sheep/discipline as metaphors, on embodiment and community as elements of the Christian life, on multiplicities of stories and perspectives ... or anything else these readings/conversations brought up for you.