God’s Mighty Majesty

Yesterday the daily Bible reading I receive by email began with Psalm 93. “The Lord reigns; he is robed in majesty; the Lord is robed; he has put on strength as his belt.” A few lines later I read “Mightier than the thunders of many waters, mightier than the waves of the sea, the Lord on high is mighty!” That wasn’t the passage I had planned to use with Mighty Majesty (my notes had Psalm 145:12), but I decided the timing made it a good choice.

I found myself wondering, as I read the first two lines, why the phrase “he is robed” was repeated. From what I understand about Hebrew (purely secondhand, from my husband’s studies in seminary), repetition is used to emphasize a point. I can understand using such emphasis on the majesty of God, or His might. But why the emphasis on “he is robed”?

I suppose the best way to understand this would be to learn more about the Hebrew word translated as “robed” and its uses in various contexts. I might be able to figure out something using my husband’s interlinear Bible and Strong’s concordance. But while I can do that reasonably well with Greek words in the New Testament, I find it harder to deal with the Hebrew, where I keep forgetting I have to read from right to left.

In any case, I found myself thinking about the possible significance of the word without having done any word study on it. If this were about a human king being robed with majesty, I would think it might have to do with the exceptional beauty of his garments, or perhaps an oblique hint at the fact that under the robes he is like the rest of us, and it is the robes and the office they signify that set him apart, rather than his own inherent qualities.

But of course with God it is quite the opposite. It is God’s own inherent qualities that set Him apart from us, and any reference to robes is purely metaphorical. To my ears, it sounds strange to emphasize the metaphor, rather than the real majesty with which God is metaphorically robed.

God is our Divine Deliverer

D proved a surprisingly difficult letter to develop into descriptions of God. So many English words that start with the letter D use a prefix such as de- or dis- to negate the root of the word they are added to. There are many words that describe God that use a prefix that negates the root word, but they tend to use in- (or im). God is immortal, immutable, incomprehensible, incorruptible, ineffable, infallible, infinite, and invisible.

These are entirely the opposite of words such as despicable, decadent, defunct, degenerate, desperate, discouraging, disparaging, or disappointing. I can think of contexts in which it would make sense to speak of God as demanding (of our obedience),  disdainful (of people and nations who think they are great but do not recognize that all they have comes from God), or dangerous (to those who defy Him). But then I would have to be careful to explain the context, and someone might see the initial description but miss the explanation.

I first thought of using the word dependable, which would certainly apply to God. But I was also trying to find words that could be found in a single passage of Scripture, or synonyms of them. Perhaps there is a verse that would give me Dependable Deliverer, but I didn’t come across one. Besides, at least one of the phrases in my list should point out that the Person being described is in fact divine.

There are many passages I could have chosen that praise our Divine Deliverer, but I chose Psalm 18:2

The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.
He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

(In case you’re wondering, I got the word divine from the use of the word God in the second line. Divine means “of or pertaining to a god.”)

One thing that intrigued me as I looked through the many uses of the word deliver in the Bible was that it was used in two rather different ways. One sense refers to a rescue, enabling someone to escape from danger. This is how I am using it here, and what we mean when we use the word deliverer.

But there are also many verses where it speaks of God delivering someone into an enemy’s hands (whether delivering Israel’s enemies into their hands or, when Israel has been disobedient, delivering Israel into the enemy’s hands). I wondered how the same word came to be used both to mean escaping from the enemy and being handed over to the enemy.

I looked up a number of verses in Strong’s concordance, both from the Old and New Testaments, and learned that this peculiarity is in the English translation, not the original. Both Hebrew and Greek use different words for the two different meanings translated deliver in English.

So I started looking up the etymology of deliver. It wasn’t hard to find out that it comes from the Latin deliberare, but here I found differing opinions on the meaning of that word. (You think people who write reference materials know what they’re talking about, but either some of them don’t, or deliberare also had two meanings.) Most of them said what I had assumed, that it meant to set free, related to the Latin word liber, meaning free.

This source, however, disagrees. It says that deliberare meant to deliberate, to weigh options in the balance, from the Latin libra, meaning scales. Deliver came to mean to see free because so many uneducated people knew some Latin but not very well, so they assumed they knew what the word meant and they were mistaken. Lots of words develop that way, so it’s not surprising that this should be one of them. What is surprising is that my Random House unabridged dictionary doesn’t seem to know this.

What also surprised me is that I still haven’t found, either online or in any of my books on word origins, is how our word deliver came to mean not only see free but to bring to or hand over. So if you happen to know, please let me know. It’s not that important, of course, but I am curious now.

Of course, none of that has much to do with God being our Divine Deliverer. But the idea seems pretty straightforward, as long as you’re not confusing a deliverer with a delivery man, so I didn’t see what I could add. Besides, I really was intrigued by my discoveries delving into the development of our word deliver.

God: Cosmic Creator

Compared to A and B, the letter C can clearly be used in many creative ways to comment on the character of God.

Compassionate Comforter
Caring Christ
Clear Communicator (and sometimes Cryptic Communicator)
Conquering Commander
Central Character (of the Bible)
Constant Companion
Celebrated Champion
Celestial Conductor (of sunsets, thunderstorms, etc.)

I didn’t try to find supporting Scriptures for these, however, as the phrase I had already picked was Cosmic Creator. You need look no farther than the first verse of the Bible to find it: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” I think the most basic thing we can say about God is that He is the Creator. Just about anyone who believes in God – whether accepting the Christian understanding of God or not – believes that God created the universe.

Creation stories from different cultures vary in many ways, but they also have common threads – starting from nothing in the beginning except the Creator(s), or nothing except water and darkness and wind. Some Christians consider this evidence that all the stories have their roots in the one true story, later written down in Genesis, and remembered by various people groups – however imperfectly – as they migrated around the world.

A lot of discussions of creation end up arguing about the theory of evolution. I find the topic interesting, but a distraction from the issue of what it means for God to be Creator. Whether God created Earth and all its life through special creation in a relatively short time, or through natural processes over billions of years, He is still the Source of all that is.

God is our Burden Bearer

Continuing with my alliterative names for God project (see yesterday’s post), I found myself in as much difficulty on B as I had on A. I did come up with Bountiful Benefactor, based on Psalm 116:7 & 12, but I had already decided on Generous Giver (for the letter G), which means much the same thing and uses words more common in everyday conversations. I also thought of one phrase I won’t use: Best Buddy. God graciously offers us friendship, but He is not our “Buddy.”

From Hebrews 2:11 and Romans 8:29 we understand that Jesus is our older Brother, but the phrase “Big Brother” in English has become too closely associated with another meaning that has nothing to do with a trusted and admired older male sibling. God is Blameless, and Hebrews 3:4 calls Him a Builder. But I find that when I think of the phrase Blameless Builder, the next thing I think about is tornados and hurricanes and all those other deadly aspects of the world we live in. I do believe God is a Blameless Builder, and these “natural evils” do not negate that. But I prefer a phrase that doesn’t get me bogged down in thinking about theodicy.

I finally settled on Burden Bearer. At first I wanted to stick to the pattern of adjective + noun that I was using for most other letters of the alphabet (I didn’t do this in alphabetical order, although I am posting in that order). But after going through all the B words I could think of (if you have trouble getting to sleep some night, try it), I concluded that this was the best phrase I had thought of. (And anyway, my sister’s email to me that got this started used the example ”foe finder.”)

I did have to ask myself, though, is it accurate to say that God bears our burdens? We are invited to

Cast your burden on the LORD,
and he will sustain you;
he will never permit the righteous to be moved.
(Psalm 55:22)

But saying that God takes the burden from me doesn’t necessarily mean that He bears it Himself. Many of my burdens are only weighing me down because I am thinking about things the wrong way (worrying about the future, wondering what someone else thinks about me). There is really no burden there to bear, once I have relinquished it to God. And even those that are true burdens (physical problems, having been harmed by another person) are not burdens on God.

Spiritual Inheritance

Renaissance Guy’s post today on The Birthright and the Blessing got me thinking about what heritage I have from my own parents – a rather mixed blessing, in some ways. I also read Eve’s post, to which he links, and from which he got the questions he is trying to answer.

Then I started thinking more about Jacob and Esau, and the rather mixed blessing of Isaac and Rebekah’s parenting. If you’re looking for advice on handling difficult family relationships, this family is not one to take as a role model.

Sermons on the subject tend to stress Esau’s spiritual blindness, that caused him to “despise his birthright.” But Jacob generally doesn’t come across much better, nor do his parents. Isaac is weak and easily manipulated, Rebekah is an expert manipulator, and Jacob learned well from his mother.

I’m not sure I ever gave much thought before to what Jacob wanted in taking the birthright and the blessing intended for Esau, but I always considered his motives selfish. He wanted whatever he could get, especially if he could get it by trickery rather than hard work and honest dealing. And he wanted more than what would have been considered his fair share (which, as that of a second son, would not be considered a fair share to us in our egalitarian society).

Movies: Abe and the Amazing Promise

I used to buy every Veggie Tales video as soon as it came out, but disappointment with some of the more recent ones, combined with family financial difficulties, made me reluctant even to spend money renting the newest one. (Well, almost the newest one – I just went to bigidea.com and discovered that Minnesota Cuke and the Search for Noah’s Umbrella just came out but I haven’t seen it in the store yet.)

It occurred to me this weekend, when I picked up Al from his class in the KidzTown area at church, that the KidzTown Public Library just might have Abe and the Amazing Promise. Sure enough, there it was, so I checked it out, and tonight Al and I watched it. He laughed a lot, and commented afterward that its lesson on patience is one he needs to remember. So I have to conclude it’s a good show.

Watching it, though, I couldn’t help thinking that it just wasn’t the same as some of the earlier Veggie Tales shows I enjoyed so much. King George and the Ducky is a family favorite, along with Where Is God When I’m S-Scared? and Are You My Neighbor? I really like Sumo of the Opera, but most of the other recent ones just miss somehow with me.

I’ve read speculation that it has to do with Big Idea having been bought by a larger company. I’ve wondered if the creative minds behind the series have used up their best ideas, and continue to churn out shows because that’s “what they do” even when the inspiration just isn’t there. But I read a customer review at amazon.com that points in a different direction.

Abe and the Amazing Promise is apparently “the first full-length episode directed by John Wahba. … Wahba’s emphasis seems to be more focused on bringing to life a film that plays to a child’s sense of imagination and humor, rather than engaging in the asides and in-jokes for adults that adult fans are used to finding sprinkled throughout the VeggieTales series.” Other reviews commented on the lack of wittiness that Veggie Tales fans have come to expect.

It’s hard to say whether this change in direction will work long-term or not. One reason for Big Idea’s big success was that parents enjoyed watching the videos with their kids. Parents do get movies just for their kids sometimes, but if they’re like me, they’re less likely to stick with a series that they don’t enjoy themselves unless the kids beg for it. And since Veggie Tales isn’t advertised all over the place where kids will see it (at least not where my kid sees it), they won’t even know a new video is out, let alone ask for it.

By the end of the DVD, I have to admit it was beginning to grow on me. Most of the songs – even the silly song – seemed far from memorable, but as I headed up to the kitchen I found the last one running through my head. And the second story (unlike most Veggie Tales videos I can think of, the Bible story came first and a purely fictional story was the longer one) really was quite creative, and I think also effective, in getting its point across (about taking the time to do a job right).

Now I just have to be patient until the church library gets a copy of Minnesota Cuke and the Search for Noah’s Umbrella…

Overnight with Noah

Tuesday afternoon, Al and I embarked on “a round (Bible) trip to the time of Noah,” as his official VBS ticket indicates. We had been invited by the pastor at a church we visited back in July, and I signed Al up. It made a good activity for the last week before school starts (a week from today), and I was intrigued by the idea of an overnight VBS.

There are still some churches in town that still run a traditional daytime VBS program. But as so many families have both parents working during the day, many churches have switched to an evening format. This gives adults the opportunity to volunteer without having to take vacation days from work. And at least at the church where I helped run an evening VBS, there were a lot of men involved, which (in my experience) is rare in a daytime VBS.

I don’t know this church’s reason for the overnight format, or whether they had done it before. We started at 4 PM (which would normally be early for me, but since I am working from5 AM to 2 PM this week, it was no problem), and the children participated in a wide variety of activities before heading to bed at about 10 PM. Staying overnight was optional, but required a parent or grandparent to stay also. I would guess at least half the children left before bedtime.

For me – especially having been up since 4 AM - it was nice to be there more as spectator than participant. I did greatly enjoy meeting Noah, and watching him tell his story to the children, and show them all the tools he had to use. I found myself wondering just what kind of tools were available back in Noah’s time, whenever that was. (Personally I am inclined toward the view that the flood was “universal” in that it affected the whole “known world” at the time, but was not global.)

Our Noah was careful to include no power tools, though the food and water buckets looked suspiciously like plastic. I also am fairly certain that kerosene lanterns, while quite antique in appearance, were way ahead of Noah’s time. Noah helped us get an idea of the ark’s dimensions by pointing out that it would reach from the room we were in all the way to the elementary school on the other side of the neighboring church. I looked out the door and could only try to imagine the immense proportions of the boat.

Like any VBS, this had music (how soon will “Who Built the Ark?” stop going through my head?) and several crafts, plus “pin the animals on the ark,” water games, and – after dark – a bonfire, complete with hot chocolate and s’mores. Supper was pretty good, consisting of:

• Soggy Logs
• Pitch sandwiches
• Noah mix
• Rabbit food
• Cow sticks
• Vineyard special
• Boat juice

I have decided, however, that next time I sleep on board a boat, even one disguised as a Sunday School classroom, I need extra padding under my sleeping bag.

Books: Twelve Ordinary Men

Today our small group at church finally reached the end of the book by John MacArthur that we’ve been studying for nearly a year. It’s not that it’s that long a book. To begin with, we decided to spend two weeks on each chapter, to have time for more discussion. Then there were the weeks we didn’t meet because of holidays. Other weeks we met, but half the group was missing due to illness or travel, and by spoken or unspoken agreement we just spent the hour talking about what was going on in our lives.

At some point I think most of us just got somewhat tired of it. The subject is certainly a good one: what were the twelve men who were Jesus’ first disciples really like, as individuals? And what can we learn from his choice of them, and from their lives both before and after Jesus’ death and resurrection? But the details given in Scripture are very few, in some cases little more than a name. Yet MacArthur takes these scanty references and develops a portrait of each man’s personality.

At least, he develops what he thinks each man was like. He may be right, but he writes with more confidence in his analysis than I think is warranted. For instance, he describes a pattern of behavior, and points to an example of it in the Gospels. The problem is that that example is the only one there is! It could be an example of the man’s typical behavior – or it could have been remembered and written about precisely because it was somewhat unusual.

Some of the points MacArthur makes are good ones, but he tends to repeat himself a good deal. In the introduction he explains that the material in the book is based on sermons he has taught over the years, and I can understand that in preaching he would repeat important points he had  made in previous sermons, or even repeat the same point for emphasis within a sermon. But in the format of a book, to repeat the same point so many times is annoying at best, and suggests a lack of respect for readers’ ability to comprehend the material.

Making assumptions

Today my mind has been on a topic brought up in a post at worldmagblog regarding the canon of Scripture. The blogger mentioned “presuppositional biblical reasoning,” and said that it is circular – but then that all reasoning is circular. One commenter objected to that statement, and another commenter pointed out to him that he was demonstrating the faulty Enlightenment epistemology she keeps noting in his comments. Perhaps my epistemology is likewise faulty, but I’ve never quite gotten a handle on “presuppositional biblical reasoning.”

It’s what we were taught in Bible school and at the Baptist college I attended, and for years I accepted the idea of it, because the pastors and teachers I trusted had taught it. But apparently I never quite learned it, because the actual presupposition I was using was that the people I trusted had it right. And when I started questioning that – not because I no longer trusted them but after all they’re fallible human beings like everyone else, I realized I wasn’t sure exactly what my basis was for believing it.

To some extent I still go by that trust in people whose characters and lives have proved themselves trustworthy to me. (There are others with the same doctrinal stands that have proved themselves untrustworthy, but I don’t blame their doctrine for that, people are endlessly capable of deceiving themselves and often other people about their true nature.) But I’ve spent the last couple decades (in between having children and working and volunteering at church and reading and puzzles and all the business of daily life) thinking about these things.

I understand that everyone makes assumptions. It’s impossible not to. What’s important is to realize what assumptions you are making. But assumptions, it seems to me, are something that not only can’t you help making, the only ones you do make are the ones you can’t help making (except to discuss hypothetical situations). You can’t just decide to make an assumption, you make it because … well, it just seems obvious to you. You can’t really give a reason for assumptions because if they had reasons they’d be something you could prove.

Trying to know what is true

There’s a very interesting post at Parchment and Pen today (of course, I think that about just about all the posts there), about our tendency to settle comfortably in a certain theological tradition and resist acknowledging that we might be wrong. Lisa Robinson draws a surprising (to me) parallel to the homeless person who resists accepting a permanent place to live because it requires change from what he has grown comfortable with. Even when change will bring good results, it’s still very uncomfortable to go through, so we stay where we are, put up with it, and even convince ourselves it is better.

I can easily think of examples of people who are so sure their theology is right, and that those who disagree have clearly misinterpreted the Scriptures (or not read them at all). I can just imagine how they would react to Lisa’s assertion that when we say we know something, what we really mean is that it has satisfied our criteria for determining what is true. But what if our criteria are wrong? I found epistemology (how we know what we know) to be a fascinating branch of philosophy, but I only got a brief introduction to it in college, and found books that I found on the subject to be very tough reading.

Lisa makes it clear she is not saying truth is relative, that we cannot know what is true and no absolute truths exist. Rather she is challenging our tendency to extend the claim of “absolute truth” to areas where we need to consider the possibility that our understanding is seriously flawed. After all, when it comes to theology we are finite beings trying to understand an Infinite Being. Some things we can state with confidence (God is good), but with others – such as why God allows evil – we risk oversimplifying the matter for the sake of a definitive explanation.

My first inclination is to congratulate myself that I do not fall into that particular trap. I don’t feel comfortable with the tension of not being sure, with trying to avoid the mistake of going to either this extreme or that one and instead balancing precariously in between – and being labelled a wishy-washy fence-sitter into the bargain. But I prefer to accept that uncomfortable tension to trying to pretend – to myself or to others – that I am convinced of a particular view when I am not, even if it is accepted by many people I know and trust. (I could give examples of various theological questions, but I don’t want to sidetrack the discussion to baptism or free will or some of the other common flashpoints.)

But then I have to ask myself, am I perhaps not doing exactly the same thing in reverse? Am I simply more comfortable saying, “I don’t know” than at having to commit to a particular position? Is it just easier for me to be “homeless” theologically and ecclesiastically (neither Calvinist nor Arminian, neither Baptist nor Presbyterian, not a liberal but not as conservative as most conservatives) than to do the hard work of finding satisfactory answers?