Prophesies and Oracles

Reading the scriptures for the second week of Advent, I'm torn, as usual, by the whole "fulfillment of prophesy" theme of Messianic claims made by and for Jesus.  Earlier this week I was reflecting some on the concept of anointed persons -- of people of destiny.  How does God act in history?  And is it the same now as in the days leading up to Christ?  Does He raise Judges to meet the situation?  Does He endow dynasties to bring continuity in their claims of prerogative and duties of noblesse oblige.  Does He act according to the aggregate force of myriad individuals motivated by Holy and other spirits.  The readings for Advent 2 stress in some respects the dynastic person of Jesus, and in others His emergence from pre (actually proto) dynastic influence.  Why proto?  A sprout from the root of Jesse -- from the stump of a felled tree.  Just as I have several trees in my yard with multiple trunk, all sprouted from the stumps of felled trees.  Jesus as Plan B, conceived coincident with the Plan A (David himself Plan B, following Saul?) of dynastic and geographically concentrated Presence of the people through whom God makes testimony of Himself.

That was some awkward language above.... Sheesh.  I'll let it stand, though.  Perhaps it will introduce sufficiently this implication of 'shoot from the stump of Jesse,' (Isaiah 11:1) that more lucid voices will run with it.  I'm certain many already have.  But most the commentaries I've viewed simply ignore that language and see Jesus in light of Davidic lineage, not in light of "OK, the intention was good -- but the execution not so.  Lets begin again according to the same intention, not the attempt to salvage a lost cause."  implied by the literal metaphor (is that an oxymoron?).

Pauls emphasis was on the foreign heritage of David -- the gentile heritage in the roots.  The scandalous heritage, in part.  The Ruth and Rahab and Tamar part.

But what strikes me in the readings is the present insignificance of a nation whose promise was to be of earth shattering significance.  If prophesies are indeed prescience, then in our time, witness the centrality of Jewish claims to a homeland in the Levant and to the origin through which peoples of the Book make their claims of God's favor and revelation.  Jewish claims of significance in the face of evidence to the contrary have been vindicated.  They've not vanished into the obscurity of assimilation.  They've not been diminished as the relics of an object of anthropological patronizing interest.  They are ascendant.  People do bring tribute and come for judgment.  The world predicted, indeed promised, has come to be.  And Christianity is incidental, perhaps instrumental to the fulfillment.  The argument that Christianity is central, itself the fulfillment -- is what evangelical and institutional Christianity is invested in.  It's a weak argument, in my mind.

But this blog entry was started and titled to reflect on how reliable these 'Jesus fulfilled the promises made from the time of the patriarchs' claim are.  When I read those claims and then read, in context, the prophesies referenced, I go "Huh!"  How do they get that?  I wonder what the rabbinical lore of the time was -- the scholars who said "We will know God's anointed by these signs" to which the Gospels and Apostles and Church Fathers responded by providing evidence that such indeed happened in Christ's person and the subsequent life of the Church.  What did Jesus show those men as they walked toward Emmaus?  Would that convince me, to hear his words?  Or would his words seem equally a stretch and snare as those of Paul and the Evangelists?

Bottom line -- I hate this prophetic validation of Jesus's person and office.  I hate the miraculous ones. Why, in the face of finding all this purported proof of Christ's divinity not only unconvincing, but repulsive, do I still cling to Christ being not only an anointed person, but the Divine person, God Incarnate?  I want to believe.  I wish it were true, for reasons I'm sure I'll share as (if) this blog continues.  I'm not sure how.  The best I can do is not dismiss the evidence presented by others equally eager to make it really be so.  I share their eagerness, and find therein my validation.  I wish I could share their conviction.  I'm sure that convictions I share with others seem equally specious as that which I've dismissed.  Why do we mine Christianity for this pearl of great price?  And are we even seeking the same pearl?  Jesus apostles sought imperial office.  Is the pearl I seek of equal vaingloriousness?  Does this all too human quest for vain ends produce through grace enduring ends? Speaking of ends, I fly off on the tangent of means.  I'll ponder Psalm 72 in light of where this reflection has brought me.  Maybe I've got a poem in me, that will make it by the deadline.

Fruitless?

A joke.  Ask how she might differ with Jesus, Anita Bryant responded -- Jesus passed a date tree barren of fruit.  He could have, maybe should have, magically caused fruit to sprout, as with the loaves and fishes.  He would not fruit the date!  Whereas, I'd never date a fruit.  Though Michelle Bachman married one.

I've not latched onto a sustainable spiritual discipline, one which I eagerly make the time and take the time to practice.  I've started attending a weekly bible study breakfast.  It's not terribly convenient, but at least one day has the possibility of an early start.  Now almost 11, I've yet to get started today.  Even this blog is kind of a dilatory exercise at the moment.  I mostly dread my days, though once into them, there's never much to dread.

Anyhow, for years I've tried the weekly meditations on the Sunday readings from time to time.  False starts each time.  Not sure why I'm drawn here, if I can't dwell here, but here I come to visit again.  First Sunday of Advent, year A.  I've versed the Psalm, another practice I keep coming to visit.  Psalm 122, Glad when they said to me, Hey -- Let's go to God's house.  This is my visiting.  He dwells, more than in most places, in our Canon of Scripture.  "God's Word" implies things our culture of evangelical Christianity imputes -- plenary inspiration and such -- that I think profane rather than exalt Scripture.  More blasphemy than profanity, I guess, to believe that God composed the Bible.  Both, though.  But God is not His House.  He resides there.  Carry on the metaphor, He my have lifted a rafter and nailed some siding, but the dwelling was erected by hands not His own.

I've reflected on my versifying.  Pronoun attribution is something that keeps throwing me off in my exegesis.  throwing others off, perhaps.  Who is 'you' in verse 9?  The city?  The 'they' of verse 1?  Some audience being sung to?  In my verse, I made that you, whose well being I seek, to be rivals for God's favor.  Beyond a certain threshold (indistinct reference to the city gates of verse 2), rivalry ought cease.  Does it ever, though.  Why cease?  Because the city is commodious -- my take on verse 3.  There's abundance to share, not scarcity to divide.  Beyond a certain threshold, that is.  There's justice, not contest.  A place to seek, recognize, and enter.  Only to visit, perhaps.  But then again, perhaps to dwell.

I was moved to blog upon reading Romans 13:14, "make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires." What better Scripture verse for an OA blog -- a powerless over gluttony blog.  And at the very beginning of the Church calendar.  The beginning of the beginning.  Dawn approaches.  Start each day with thoughts of gratitude, not gratification.  Judith would like that word play --- Judith being an OA mentor.  She's quite fond of wordplay.

The Gospel is a challenge to my way of thinking.  A symptom of depression, which I've experienced a brief acuity of late (on top of the morning blues chronicity) is sometimes called hypervigilance.  I want to read Matthew 24:43-44 in a way other than promoting hypervigilance.  My reflections draw me toward an attitude of "God is good.  Be careless of outcomes -- God owns those.  Care for conduct, for its own sake."  A bit of "consider the lilies."  Can I appease an angry God?  My brand of Christianity says NEVER!.  But then, God's anger is nothing for me to fear.  Why?  Because I've been introduced to a different vision of God than the bearded sky-bully.  And if that truly is the character of God, then so be it.

When preparing for the day that must come, what expectations?  What preparations?  What lay beyond that certain threshold?  Do I store food and water and oil and batteries, like the wise virgins?  Or do I bring only myself?  Despite my investment in that latter proposition, I need this Advent to consider the former -- the need to sustain vigil in the face of disappointment.

I'm drawn in the end toward Eisenhower's great observation --- Plans are worthless, but planning is priceless.

Advent Week 1 -- Psalm 122 DRAFT

Comes the invitation
Then the jubilation
God resides nearby
Past a certain threshold
All may find a foothold
Manifold the cry

(chorus)
I know you not, but you know Him
at least as well as I
And so I yield and wish you well
For God's sake peace I prize

Law taught from the carriage
As if in stone is cherished
Heritage of life
Then unhewn stones encountered
Anointed thrones which tendered
Justice ending strife

(chorus)

Comes the invitation
Reconciliation
When God's truly known
Peace comes not through conquest
Neither of us knows best
That's for Him alone

(chorus)

Past a certain threshold
As within a sheepfold
All find loving care
Those I love the more so
If for you all goes well
And you goodwill do bear

(chorus)

Not an auspicious start.

I've had the flu.  Part of my housebound routine has been to resume writing poetry at a site called The Starlite Cafe.  I'm sure there are many other places I might find more congenial.  I've been to a few which have not lasted, and a few more where my welcome wore out.  I posted a challenge poem today.  I played fast and loose with the challenge phrases to create couplets following the Steps of OA.

Recovery Step one occurs once you believe In yourself is no reprieve Step two is taken with assent To guiding wisdom transcendent Step three unites your will with It Find and follow Yield Submit Step four takes a fearless look To the future clean of gook Which confessed upon step five To God and sponsor lets you strive By step six to willing be Stop holding on to a memory Step seven taken on your knees To One who from all defect frees Step eight now memory requires Of persons harmed by mean desires Step nine implores you find and mend Where further harm does not attend Step ten is lifelong vigilance The misdirected man repents Step eleven quiet and still Listening for the Master's will Step twelve announces life set free In all respects shared gleefully Multi-Challenge -- MOVING ON 'believe in yourself' 'look to the future' 'holding on to a memory'

Hiatus

I didn't blog during Advent, as was the intent, here or elsewhere.  My excuse is that Advent is about listening and watching outside ones self.  Good blogging probably the same.  And I'm too drawn toward navel gazing.  Not very entertaining.  And not a posture where one might see stars, much less follow.

The season now is Epiphany.  The dogs are fed scraps.  And rulers come to declare from among the least of us, one among and above them.  Whatever that says, and good things were said on Sunday, it says to me that those who try to stop me, in doing so, validate me.  There are a zillion qualifications to that.  Do they need to be stated?

First Sunday of Advent

More impulsively than prayerfully, I start a new blog on this, the first Sunday of Advent, 2013.  On Dec 2, to be specific.  I've been trying to connect to God in the many ways He offers connection, with varied degrees of confidence.  What I totally lack confidence in is dealing with my food issues through altering the nature of my obsession with food.  I'll continue all that in my frufoo blog.  But here, I'm stumbling through the path along which God, through the Christian fellowship, has and does guide us.

As is my habit the first Sunday of the month, I benefit from hearing two sermons, one Sunday School lesson, and one OA meeting.  All but OA were advent themed.  I guess OA, reading the beginning of the Bill's Story chapter in the Big Book was descent themed.

The text from Sunday School was from Jeremiah, though which I was reminded of Judah's long exile and eventual return to the Holy Land.  I don't have specific recall, and having started this on impulse don't have the class material at hand.  The jist of things was that Judah's people were inclined to blame their trials on institutions, while Jeremiah foretells a tectonic (Messianic) shift in the nature of our relation to God.  I was struck with something 'clever' to say just when class ended and it went unsaid and unremembered.  It probably had to do with our hope changing shape as we witness events that disappoint the form our hopes took, but not their substance.  Connie's sermon touched on that very thing, when she spoke of the urgency of end-time hopes in the First century, contrasted to the patience which 2,000 years has brought.  Patience or dismissiveness?  A little of both.

Lance's sermon used a video clip from Talladega Nights and a reproof of the Cartesian primacy of imaginative faculties, to say that God is bigger than what our imagination invites him to be, as some sacred corner of our life.  We do well to let God have His role in our life.  But in reality, far beyond the limits our imagination provides, is that we have a role in His plan, and settling into that role is where Advent can lead us, if we see past Ninja Jesus.  This has close parallel to what I've been learning of the Third Step.  Alliance with the beneficent (another emphasis of Lance's, taken from the Narnia tales) governing stream of affairs around us is more conducive to our sanity and sobriety than forcing our will and aspirations and imaginations upon what's at best an unyielding world, and more often an opposing world.  If I had the Big Book handy, I could cite chapter and verse, as I've learned many of my fellows in Recovery are equipped to do.

Connie went quickly past the Luke text which, in the spirit of stumbling, always snares me with the Preterist suggestion that all things will pass within the present generation.  She dwelt on the Psalmist's prayer of yearning to learn better the nature of God and the ways we might best respond to His actions and expectation.  I'm not putting that well.  Suffice that she recommends more deliberate use of the mundane tools of Christian discipleship -- Bible study and prayer, along with a specific device of reviewing the day's events attentive to when one perceived the nearness and distance of God, especially in the extreme.

I have two Advent calendars which give verses to reflect upon.  Can't find the one from CGB.  BME is disributing one that I found on my own last week and have as a PDF.  It's verse for today is from I Thess 3:9-10.  It was actually reading that which sparked the impulse to start this.  Paul was talking the 12th step joy of seeing others stay true to their beginning, and to begin to show the fruits of that persistence.  It works if you work it, so work it, you're worth it.  Here's to working it, in a season of yearning, yes, for the transcendent coming of God, but also confident of the regularity of His ways, in which sustainable commitments yield fruit as much or more as transformative heroics.