For some reason these days I have come to appreciate the feel of cool air, of breathing deeply and simply being outdoors. It is spring and that is probably why, although I can’t remember feeling this way before. Whatever it might be, this feeling has reminded me again of our trip to Shiloh two years ago last August. I remember the date well, because the park ranger we talked to brought up the Supreme Court Cavanaugh hearing, telling us, “I know which party to never vote for again,” in his thick Tennessee accent, which seemed to fit so well the site of a Civil War battle pitting, as they say, brother against brother. At that time, we were on our way to visit my wife’s relatives in Mississippi and were near finishing an audio book about the modern-day search for the Ark of the Covenant, which, when boiled down to its essence, was a box containing the tablets of Moses and the Rod of Aaron – as well as the concentrated presence of God. It was astoundingly appropriate, for after our visit we looked up the origin of the name Shiloh, and found that the original had been the home of the Ark after the settlement of Israel by the Jews.
America’s Shiloh is a wonderful place, as rural as it had been in the days of the war, and just as quiet, lending a solemnity to the hundreds of Yankee tombstones that run along a high bank of the Tennessee River. It is that open space there that connected my new love for the outdoors and Shiloh, which then naturally brought up the story in mind about the Ark and King David. During David’s time, the Jews fought and lost a battle with the Philistines. Since it was the custom to carry the Ark into battle for God’s power, when the Jews were defeated, the Ark fell into Philistine hands. It was a Pyrrhic victory. Shortly after, the Philistines suffered all sorts of plagues, until they finally dumped the Ark at a site near a temple to Baal, along with a good portion of gold as a guilt offering. The Jews rejoiced, and David danced as they carried the Ark to its new home in Jerusalem. Unfortunately, the men carrying the Ark on long polls stumbled at one point, causing one man to reflexively grab the Ark to steady it. Whereby he fell dead on the spot, which was The Law. God did not kid around back then.
Which brings us at last to the point of this story: that the life of an individual in the Old Testament was worth very little. During the Exodus, for instance, God plagued the people with poisonous snakes after they had been particularly unfaithful, killing untold thousands. Later, when the people went against the will of God again by not invading the Promised Land, He had them wander about the desert for 40 years, until, as was said, the last of the disobedient generation of the Exodus had died off. And on and on it goes from there, the individual and even the masses slaughtered through God’s hand to teach a point. Obviously, since God made us, He has the right to undo us; but where is the love?
What a difference a thousand years make. Jesus changed the current of the old beliefs, where people were basically chattel of the king of the realm, to a new one: that each person, no matter how lowly, counted. In fact, the lowly might come first, as did the poor man Lazarus in the Gospels. That tale made it incumbent upon us to help the lowly lest we end up as the rich man did, dying of thirst in hell while Lazarus sat at table with Elijah and Moses. The last was often first in heaven, and the first last. Let us repeat: now, every man (and woman and child) would count. No longer should we slaughter a whole nation or even an annoying neighbor without consideration of each and every person involved.
Let’s jump forward a few more thousand years to now, the Ano Coronus – the year of the corona virus. As the weeks go on of “shelter in place”, aka, “stay at home” edicts, the controversy over when to open up the world and, most importantly, the economy is moving from a simmer to a boil. The big question is, at what point should we pull the plug on potential victims of the disease to save our economy? While that question can sound crass, we can rephrase it to sound a little better: at what point should we go back to work to provide for ourselves and our families? In other words, if this shelter stuff goes on, not only grandma but all of us will eventually die. This is no longer the Garden of Eden; eventually we all have to live by the sweat of our brow. But when to change gears? As our society has switched from the Old Testament to the New Testament model, such decisions have become increasingly difficult. When do we let someone go so that we might save the masses? And on whom should that burden be placed?
Of the latter, that is easy: that would be the president, and if we don’t like his decision, we can elect someone else. But how should he judge?
We have been following a bible class by Jeff Cavins on the computer in these times of staying at home, where he expertly weaves the Old and New Testaments together into one seamless fabric. In a nutshell, we are brought to understand that it is not God but the people who change over time. In the days when the individual did not count to anyone in authority, be that the king or the head of the house, so they were dealt with by God. Back then, if some men stumbled over a bump with the Ark and one was smitten to teach a lesson, so be it. A thousand plus years later, divine judgment decided that people could now understand that everyone counted, which started us on our long and bumpy road to a more humanistic society. Another such bump brought America to a war that killed hundreds of thousands so that each and every slave could be free. A hard decision had to be made. In hindsight, we have seen that it was worth it, although with great sacrifice for many.
Now we have been brought to another crossroads, another bump in the road, again not by a changing god, but by the interaction of man and nature. Now we are being forced to decide between the life of certain individuals and the bulk of the world. It is clear that at some point we MUST move beyond our crises mode, to save the many by the death of a few. However, if we are to understand that all crises work beneath the gaze of cosmic forces, how must we understand the reason for this dilemma? What is this scenario trying to work out for us? At one time, one man-god sacrificed himself for all humanity. Hundreds of years later, thousands upon thousands of men sacrificed themselves for an ideal that spread across the world. Now, once again a decision has to be made.
The ending of a crises is not always good, at least in the short term. In the Old Testament, the Jews were slaughtered and/or enslaved again and again because, as the authors understood it, Israel had strayed from it covenant. In the era of the prophets, the northern half of the Jewish kingdom was warned again and again to mend its ways. When it did not, the northern ten tribes were scattered to the winds by the Assyrians for all time. A few hundred years later, the Jews of the south were also warned, did not listen, and were captured by the Babylonians. However, this time they woke up before it was too late. Returning to the faith, they were also returned to their lands to rebuild the Temple and their collective lives.
Trying times can move us in many ways and for unexpected reasons. It might just be that we have been stressing the wrong point about our decision at the crossroads. Maybe it is a different kind of lesson, one that concerns sacrifice and the rights and limits of person-hood. When we look at ourselves as a culture, when have we sacrificed ourselves for others? When have we asked others to sacrifice themselves for the good of the whole? And when, to the contrary, have we sacrificed those with no choice or understanding for our own convenience or whim, just as the kings of old did?
Now we are being forced to realize the importance of all lives even as we must decide sooner rather than later that some must be left behind so that others might live. Life and death on a large scale are once again no longer mere abstractions, whether as an idea or as a clump of cells. In effect, we are being brought to understand that the handling of life and death is not a simple political game, but rather a hard lesson that probes the depth of our national soul. Will this new crises wake us up to our selves so that we might come back, sadder but wiser, from whatever our exile has been? Only God knows.
For some reason these days I have come to appreciate the feel of cool air, of breathing deeply and simply being outdoors. It is spring and that is probably why, although I can’t remember feeling this way before. Whatever it might be, this feeling has reminded me again of our trip to Shiloh two years ago last August. I remember the date well, because the park ranger we talked to brought up the Supreme Court Cavanaugh hearing, telling us, “I know which party to never vote for again,” in his thick Tennessee accent, which seemed to fit so well the site of a Civil War battle pitting, as they say, brother against brother. At that time, we were on our way to visit my wife’s relatives in Mississippi and were near finishing an audio book about the modern-day search for the Ark of the Covenant, which, when boiled down to its essence, was a box containing the tablets of Moses and the Rod of Aaron – as well as the concentrated presence of God. It was astoundingly appropriate, for after our visit we looked up the origin of the name Shiloh, and found that the original had been the home of the Ark after the settlement of Israel by the Jews.
America’s Shiloh is a wonderful place, as rural as it had been in the days of the war, and just as quiet, lending a solemnity to the hundreds of Yankee tombstones that run along a high bank of the Tennessee River. It is that open space there that connected my new love for the outdoors and Shiloh, which then naturally brought up the story in mind about the Ark and King David. During David’s time, the Jews fought and lost a battle with the Philistines. Since it was the custom to carry the Ark into battle for God’s power, when the Jews were defeated, the Ark fell into Philistine hands. It was a Pyrrhic victory. Shortly after, the Philistines suffered all sorts of plagues, until they finally dumped the Ark at a site near a temple to Baal, along with a good portion of gold as a guilt offering. The Jews rejoiced, and David danced as they carried the Ark to its new home in Jerusalem. Unfortunately, the men carrying the Ark on long polls stumbled at one point, causing one man to reflexively grab the Ark to steady it. Whereby he fell dead on the spot, which was The Law. God did not kid around back then.
Which brings us at last to the point of this story: that the life of an individual in the Old Testament was worth very little. During the Exodus, for instance, God plagued the people with poisonous snakes after they had been particularly unfaithful, killing untold thousands. Later, when the people went against the will of God again by not invading the Promised Land, He had them wander about the desert for 40 years, until, as was said, the last of the disobedient generation of the Exodus had died off. And on and on it goes from there, the individual and even the masses slaughtered through God’s hand to teach a point. Obviously, since God made us, He has the right to undo us; but where is the love?
What a difference a thousand years make. Jesus changed the current of the old beliefs, where people were basically chattel of the king of the realm, to a new one: that each person, no matter how lowly, counted. In fact, the lowly might come first, as did the poor man Lazarus in the Gospels. That tale made it incumbent upon us to help the lowly lest we end up as the rich man did, dying of thirst in hell while Lazarus sat at table with Elijah and Moses. The last was often first in heaven, and the first last. Let us repeat: now, every man (and woman and child) would count. No longer should we slaughter a whole nation or even an annoying neighbor without consideration of each and every person involved.
Let’s jump forward a few more thousand years to now, the Ano Coronus – the year of the corona virus. As the weeks go on of “shelter in place”, aka, “stay at home” edicts, the controversy over when to open up the world and, most importantly, the economy is moving from a simmer to a boil. The big question is, at what point should we pull the plug on potential victims of the disease to save our economy? While that question can sound crass, we can rephrase it to sound a little better: at what point should we go back to work to provide for ourselves and our families? In other words, if this shelter stuff goes on, not only grandma but all of us will eventually die. This is no longer the Garden of Eden; eventually we all have to live by the sweat of our brow. But when to change gears? As our society has switched from the Old Testament to the New Testament model, such decisions have become increasingly difficult. When do we let someone go so that we might save the masses? And on whom should that burden be placed?
Of the latter, that is easy: that would be the president, and if we don’t like his decision, we can elect someone else. But how should he judge?
We have been following a bible class by Jeff Cavins on the computer in these times of staying at home, where he expertly weaves the Old and New Testaments together into one seamless fabric. In a nutshell, we are brought to understand that it is not God but the people who change over time. In the days when the individual did not count to anyone in authority, be that the king or the head of the house, so they were dealt with by God. Back then, if some men stumbled over a bump with the Ark and one was smitten to teach a lesson, so be it. A thousand plus years later, divine judgment decided that people could now understand that everyone counted, which started us on our long and bumpy road to a more humanistic society. Another such bump brought America to a war that killed hundreds of thousands so that each and every slave could be free. A hard decision had to be made. In hindsight, we have seen that it was worth it, although with great sacrifice for many.
Now we have been brought to another crossroads, another bump in the road, again not by a changing god, but by the interaction of man and nature. Now we are being forced to decide between the life of certain individuals and the bulk of the world. It is clear that at some point we MUST move beyond our crises mode, to save the many by the death of a few. However, if we are to understand that all crises work beneath the gaze of cosmic forces, how must we understand the reason for this dilemma? What is this scenario trying to work out for us? At one time, one man-god sacrificed himself for all humanity. Hundreds of years later, thousands upon thousands of men sacrificed themselves for an ideal that spread across the world. Now, once again a decision has to be made.
The ending of a crises is not always good, at least in the short term. In the Old Testament, the Jews were slaughtered and/or enslaved again and again because, as the authors understood it, Israel had strayed from it covenant. In the era of the prophets, the northern half of the Jewish kingdom was warned again and again to mend its ways. When it did not, the northern ten tribes were scattered to the winds by the Assyrians for all time. A few hundred years later, the Jews of the south were also warned, did not listen, and were captured by the Babylonians. However, this time they woke up before it was too late. Returning to the faith, they were also returned to their lands to rebuild the Temple and their collective lives.
Trying times can move us in many ways and for unexpected reasons. It might just be that we have been stressing the wrong point about our decision at the crossroads. Maybe it is a different kind of lesson, one that concerns sacrifice and the rights and limits of person-hood. When we look at ourselves as a culture, when have we sacrificed ourselves for others? When have we asked others to sacrifice themselves for the good of the whole? And when, to the contrary, have we sacrificed those with no choice or understanding for our own convenience or whim, just as the kings of old did?
Now we are being forced to realize the importance of all lives even as we must decide sooner rather than later that some must be left behind so that others might live. Life and death on a large scale are once again no longer mere abstractions, whether as an idea or as a clump of cells. In effect, we are being brought to understand that the handling of life and death is not a simple political game, but rather a hard lesson that probes the depth of our national soul. Will this new crises wake us up to our selves so that we might come back, sadder but wiser, from whatever our exile has been? Only God knows.
RSS Feed