One work that wakes

THOU art indeed just, Lord, if I contend
With thee; but, sir, so what I plead is just.
Why do sinners’ ways prosper? and why must
Disappointment all I endeavour end?
Wert thou my enemy, O thou my friend,
How wouldst thou worse, I wonder, than thou dost
Defeat, thwart me? Oh, the sots and thralls of lust
Do in spare hours more thrive than I that spend,
Sir, life upon thy cause. See, banks and brakes
Now leavèd how thick! lacèd they are again
With fretty chervil, look, and fresh wind shakes
Them; birds build—but not I build; no, but strain,
Time’s eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes.
Mine, O thou lord of life, send my roots rain.

-Gerard Manley Hopkins

Hopefully, the text of this poem will evoke its source, part of our reading from this week: "You will be in the right, O Lord, when I lay charges against you; but let me put my case to you. Why does the way of the guilty prosper? Why do all who are treacherous thrive?", etc (Jer 12: 1). I have read and loved this poem for many years without giving much, if any, thought to its beginnings in this text from Jeremiah. Much of our work in this course, however, has brought it to mind as one example of the Christian tendency to reinterprate pieces of the Hebrew scriptures as our own story without due consideration of their original context.

Jeremiah and Lamentations, it seems, are two of the books most particularly subject to this tendency. My first association with Lamentations, for example, is the long passages from it that are sung in our Tenebrae service every Holy Week. Contemporary Christians often seem to feel that we can simply substitute our own names, or that of our church, for "Israel" and have the meaning remain the same.

I do not want to disparage this process, as I think it can actually be a powerful devotional tool in the right settings, but a stronger understanding of the original context of these scriptures does seem to be needed. This is why reading the scriptures alongside Coogan's writing is especially effective; he and the NRSV Study Bible translators continuously bring the reader back to the actual text and context of the Hebrew Bible, rather than letting us simply fill in our own interpretations. Coogan notes, for example, that the introductory chapters of Jeremiah are "a carefully constructed composite of themes and genres found repeatedly in biblical literature," not a simple devotional text, and certainly not a deliberate message to the modern Christian churches! This perspective is very much needed.

Hosea

The most well-known element of the book of Hosea is certainly Hosea’s marriage to the prostitute Gomer and the subsequent birth of their three symbolically-named children:

When the Lord first spoke through Hosea, the Lord said to Hosea, “Go, take for yourself a wife of whoredom and have children of whoredom, for the land commits great whoredom by forsaking the Lord.” 3So he went and took Gomer daughter of Diblaim, and she conceived and bore him a son. 4And the Lord said to him, “Name him Jezreel; for in a little while I will punish the house of Jehu for the blood of Jezreel, and I will put an end to the kingdom of the house of Israel. 5On that day I will break the bow of Israel in the valley of Jezreel.” 6She conceived again and bore a daughter. Then the Lord said to him, “Name her Lo-ruhamah, for I will no longer have pity on the house of Israel or forgive them. 7But I will have pity on the house of Judah, and I will save them by the Lord their God; I will not save them by bow, or by sword, or by war, or by horses, or by horsemen.” When she had weaned Lo-ruhamah, she conceived and bore a son. 9Then the Lord said, “Name him Lo-ammi, for you are not my people and I am not your God.” 10

I have always heard this passage interpreted strictly as an allegory: Hosea is Israel, the unfaithful one, but God is prepared to show his love anyway by taking her back, changing the names of her children to more appealing ones. I was surprised, then, that Coogan’s interpretation of the passage was actually somewhat more literal, in that it indicates that Hosea actually married an adulterous woman named Gomer who bore him three children.

Whatever the case may be, this marriage and the naming of the couple’s children seem to be classic examples of the “sign-act” genre, which I have also heard described as a type of performance art or street theater. The prophets would commit strange, wild acts to draw attention to bring home their words in a highly visible and startling way, forcing people to confront their message. This bears some similarities to the work of many artists and activists today.

A couple of thoughts on Daniel

(Note to readers: we've been instructed to do some blogging for one of my classes this semester, and I figured, hey, I already have a nerdy baseball blog set up, might as well do it there. You are welcome to ignore these posts unless you too are interested in the literature of ancient Israel.)

One of the problems that readers of the book of Daniel may face is a sense of overfamiliarity. Coogan correctly notes how many everyday figures of speech come from this book: “the writing on the wall,” “feet of clay,” and so on. Then there are the familiar scenes, often (perhaps somewhat mysteriously, considering their intense violence) taught to children in Sunday school: Daniel in the lions’ den, rescued by his God, or the three young men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, walking in the fiery furnace with a mysterious fourth figure “with the appearance of a god,” later identified in the text as an angel.

The antidote to this familiarity, it seems, may lie in taking a closer look at the text itself. Certainly the familiar events and phrases are present, but the book of Daniel is full of so many odd scenes and wild visions that it could never be called commonplace. Most people, remembering some of these visions, think of Daniel as a prophet, and the book is indeed placed among the other prophets in Christian Bibles. Coogan informs us, however, that in the Jewish tradition it is placed with the Writings, which may lead us to notice that the book does not consist entirely of prophecies. In fact, one of its most notable features is that it consists of two genres: legendary heroic tales in chapters 1 through 6, followed by apocalyptic literature in chapters 7 through 12, where the prophecies are located. In addition, chapters 1 through 6 are stories told about Daniel, while the second half of the book purports to be written by Daniel himself. Because of these and other inconsistencies, the book is difficult to classify, and despite any sense of familiarity we may feel upon first glance, its strange and arresting images continue to intrigue and confound readers today.

Two items

At this moment, I am trying to memorize the difference between: 1.) the "ordinary magisterium," 2.) the "extraordinary magisterium," and 3.) the "ordinary universal magisterium." My reading has a diagram to help me with this. Never go to Jesus School.

Also, my mother told me the following story last week: "We [she and her sister and brother-in-law] used to go watch the river rats near the fire boats on the Calumet River. I mean, they were big. It was like an amusement park. Yes, the rats were running." I felt that several of you would appreciate this. My mom has a lot of childhood stories about rats.

Be still, my heart

Via Bleed Cubbie Blue, this item about Mike Fontenot's "star turn" on the sitcom My Boys is certainly the best thing I've heard all week:

Fontenot, a natural ham, was perfect for the part. He said he has seven lines overall and already has learned them..."I've been standing in front of the mirror rehearsing," [he said].

I don't know about all of you, but I'm prepared to be amazed.

"Nobody's got style"

I am slightly behind on everything Cubs-related because of midterms, but this is probably the best thing I have seen in 2009 so far, and I'm not really exaggerating.  I find it indescribably wonderful that they needed to put out a big Slip-n-Slide-looking thing so they could teach grown men how to fall on their faces without hurting themselves.  That is why baseball is America's pastime.

In other news: the blowout against the Sox yesterday was pretty cool, I hope Micah Hoffpauir keeps rocking on, I need to check out the audio on the Cubs/Padres matchup that I think is going on right now, and...Curt Schilling wants to pitch for the Cubs?  Huh.

Ashes

Man, I'm hungry.  I'm not very good at fasting.  I did get to hear a really extraordinary sermon this afternoon, though.  The priest said that "Ash Wednesday seems almost superfluous this year," which is undeniable.  He talked about our special responsibility to do good work in these bad times when the entire world seems to be degenerating into ashes and eventually concluded that we are not, in fact, doomed.  I desperately needed to hear that and cried, of course.

Well, since I am tired, hungry, and incoherent I will save commentary on the amazing Vine Line photoshoot of Z and Fontenot being "very playful" until later.  I hope all of you who observe Lent will have a peaceful and reflective forty days. 

Beat it

Lots of interesting stuff today.  The Tribune tells us that Z threw his first batting-practice session yesterday, then "bypassed the media and stomped out of the clubhouse shouting 'beat it' in Spanish."  Well, that's dispiriting, isn't it?  I hope we're not looking at a repeat of the second half of last season (I'd take a repeat of the no-hitter, of course, but mostly not the rest of it).

On a lighter note, Chicago Cubs Online linked to an entertaining Daily Herald article about the height of the Cubs' middle infielders, which begins, "After shooting his bow and arrow this winter, Mike Fontenot made it his target to get stronger so he can start at second base."  I'm not sure there was any need to go beyond the bolded part, personally - that is more than enough awesome for any piece of writing.  But if we must:

Both Fontenot and Miles check in at 5-feet-8, and when either pairs with shortstop Ryan Theriot (5-11), they'll give the Cubs one of the most diminutive double-play combos in the, ahem, "big" leagues.

Nice job, Daily Herald.  But, really, how great is it that our two potential second basemen are both 5'8?  What is this, the Little Rascals baseball club?  (Just kidding.  You know Theriot and Fontenot are my two favorite people ever, and I look forward to seeing Aaron Miles in action.)

I turned in a couple of sermons last week, have to talk to a bunch of people about baptism this week, and have 93 midterms due shortly, plus many terrible applications for financial aid, so I am more than usually grateful that baseball exists.  I'm clinging to it as a distraction from my FAFSA and various Latin terms.

"We got to get him a Cub hat over there"

More from the Sun-Times: I spent most of the long, cold winter pining away for articles like this one.

Cubs manager Lou Piniella does seem to take exception, though, to seeing the President wearing that old, worn Sox hat he does so often.

"We got to get him a Cub hat over there," Piniella said. "We can sneak Chief Wahoo over there."

Huh?

"Who is it?" Piniella said, grasping for the right character. "Yeah, Ronnie Wahoo."

Or maybe even Ronnie Woo-Woo. Close enough.

Please, Lou, never change.

News and Notes

According to the Sun-Times' Cubs Twitter feed and various other sources:

• With the arrival of Rami, D. Lee, and Soriano today, everyone is present and accounted for.  Man, that's exciting.  
• Jim Hendry doesn't know if Obama will pay a visit when he's in Mesa on Wednesday.  I hope so - maybe he could promote some inter-team goodwill.
• Lou has told everybody to quit making predictions about, you know, stuff, which I think is very sensible.
• Z's mustache: I am concerned.  Also, Milton Bradley continues to look crazy.