Dashing Through the Land

In a previous issue of The Journal an article of mine appeared which mentioned Psalm 137, and specifically the final verses which speak of bloody vengeance taken upon the infant children of Babylon.  Uncomfortable stuff.  Apparently Ray Daly agreed, writing the following in response.

This is in regard to Psalm 137:9 as mentioned by Gavin Rumney in his editorial about the Bible canon in the May 31, 2012, JOURNAL.

The word for "dashes" (as in "Happy is the one who takes and dashes your little ones against the rock" in Psalm 137) can indeed mean exactly what it seems to be saying.

However, "dashes" can also mean "scatters."  The word for "rock" is Strong's No. 5553, cela.  Cela represents the Lord in the cloud who led the children of Israel in the wilderness.

Thus a good rendering would be "Happy is the man who scatters your little ones against the Lord," a very positive meaning.

In OT scriptures, the Lord-Cela, Israel's God, is "loving, faithful, forgiving, patient, long-suffering, desiring good things."

But this is only one believer's opinion.

I appreciate Ray's effort to make sense - and positive sense - of a disturbing passage.  I can only observe that Strong's, despite looking impressive on a bookshelf, has never been a particularly helpful resource.  The strategy used here is to go hunting for a definition that ameliorates the unthinkable, and then appropriating it, however unlikely.  The context - as witnessed by every translation I know - clearly determines otherwise.

The "texts of terror" are unfortunately real.  Our choice is to either explain them away, as Ray does with the finest of motives, or eyeball them without flinching and deal with them honestly. 

New Journal released

It's that time of month again, and a new Journal, the essential news source for members of the post-Armstrong diaspora, is en route to subscribers in the shattered alternate worlds of COGdom.  Once again editor Dixon Cartwright has made the entire issue available to download in PDF format.

I don't even want to mention the interview with the journo from the vile, reptilian Wing Nut Daily... so let's just pass that one by.  Elsewhere the controversy rages over the role of women in the Churches of God.  Tina Englebart responds to her critics, New Zealander Max McFeat, retreaded Canadian GCI member Velvet Delorey, and Lawrence Mumme of Tucson in an article that's a pleasure to read.  Sir Anthony Buzzard has an article headlined "Disdain for Real Scholarship Dooms COGs."  Prophetic words, but sadly his comments on the canon which follow just don't, in my opinion, add up.  It's never good enough to say something must be true because it, um, must be true.

And yes, there are more of those incredible ads!  Brian Convery takes up no less than nine (I counted twice) full tabloid pages in one text-dense advertorial cleverly entitled "The Bride of Christ vs. The Pride of Life."  Read it all and you can probably apply for a medal.

There's also a comprehensive list of the 2012 Feast of Tabernacles sites for the various COGlets.  Here in New Zealand the LCG is gathering in the Bay of Islands, the UCG in Kerikeri, the RCG (Packites) in Taupo, as is CGWA.  Not mentioned is the WCG (yes, here at the bottom of the Pacific the much depleted Tkach franchise is still using the old name and holding a watered down version of the festival) which will be congregating in Rotorua.

Art Ferdig, Angels and Mammon

Art Ferdig is one of those names out of the past that I half remember.  His name appeared on the masthead of The Plain Truth in the Seventies, and he ascended to the inner circle as personal assistant to Herbert Armstrong.

So, whatever happened to dear ol' Art?  It seems he subsequently went off the deep end, as so many other former high-flyers in the Empire did, creating his own wacky religious enterprise.  Art, we are led to believe, has been taught by angels.

My name is Art Ferdig. Since autumn 2002, I've been taught by Angels and other wonderful beings of light, including the Christ Energy, Holy Spirit and more! It was an amazing wake-up call, and a privilege perhaps unparalled in modern times.

These divine beings put me on a profound spiritual path. I have been given much, and it is now my destiny to share their wondrous truths with all hearts ready to receive.

Lucky Art. Truly a blessed man.  His imaginary friends in the ether have even bestowed on the old boy the title "The  Bridge."  More likely, "the bridge to nowhere."

Bridge to Nowhere

But Art has been getting his blessings in other ways too.  Using his faith networks, he promoted his company Tradex, an investment scheme which gambled on minute fluctuations in the currency markets.

And yes, whatever sublime angelic counsel Art might have been receiving from Metatron and his pals, it all ended in tears, lost investments, arrest and exposure.

Gary Leonard, who is consistently on top of most of the developments in the ruins of Armstrong's legacy, has recently posted on the Ferdig story, and there are a couple of articles in the media at wired.co.uk and patrickpretty.com.

It's all very sad really.  Any complaints can presumably be taken up with Metatron directly.

Moaning

"But just don't tell Gavin Rumney who hates Revelation intensely and frankly doesn't need any more material to moan about."  Jonathan Robinson.

Jonathan Robinson pens some quite good stuff on his blog, despite being a Baptist mullah.  In fact, if you've got a spare moment, check it out.  I mean, I quite like some Baptist preacher types, as long as they're not demon-possessed, NKJV-toting Southern Baptists like Al Mohler, and Jonathan seems to be quite a long way along the enlightened end of the Baptist bell shaped curve.  As I've confessed here before, I attended a Baptist Church when living in the Taranaki in the long ago, and have some good memories - despite the culture shock for a poor Lutheran-raised lad encountering competive hand-holding prayer circles for the first time.  You know the type: the group leader launches out in an avalanche of awesomes, we just wannas, and semi-orgasmic moans and groans (oooohhhh, Jesus, we just, ummmmm, thank you Lord) parading as praise.  Ugh!  Meanwhile the next poor schmuck in the circle is desperately thinking "how the @#$! am I gonna compete with that." 

Anyway, "resident alien" Jonathan (he's from the UK) is under the impression that I'm a moaner and guilty of hate crimes against the Apocalypse.  Perhaps he's right, but I have to make one small correction, I don't really hate Revelation, intensely or otherwise.  No, Revelation is a nice example of the apocalyptic genre, full of the rich, fruity mix of world-hating metaphors and imagery that go into the standard recipe.  That it ended up in the New Testament however is tragic, and I take some comfort in the fact that a lot of folk in the early church fought its inclusion tooth and nail.  Luther was keen on bouncing it out into a kind of appendix of dubious documents, and even the late, great J. B. Phillips made some starchy comments on its value.  Given those qualifications it's perfectly possible to still appreciate it for what it is, warts and all. What I do passionately abhor is the way it continues to be appropriated and misused by 'evangelicals' and deranged fear-engendering tithe farmers, and of such things I can personally attest, as presumably can Jonathan, given the apocalyptic-rich chiliastic diet that many Baptists wallow in, even in Auckland's inner suburbs.

As for all the prattle about Revelation being more some kind of ancient team-building motivational text, and that we can strip away the Scarlet Harlot, the rivers of blood and sociopathic horsemen, leaving behind a sanitary, faith-enhancing text... not so likely.

It's Tough to be a Samoan Seventh-day Adventist

What do you do when the government changes the days of the week on you?

Probably not much, unless you're a committed Seventh-day Adventist.

Samoa's SDA's are in conflict with the denominational leadership in the United States.  They want to keep observing the unchanged Sabbath, which is no longer Saturday but, horror of horrors, Sunday.

Can we all say "mark of the beast" brethren?

Adventists in Tonga, Kiribati and Wallis and Futuna are similarly discombobulated by the evolving bumps in the dateline.  It gives a whole new meaning to the canard that somebody "doesn't know what day of the week it is."

The implications of planet Earth being a whirling sphere in space don't seem to have sunk in yet in Battle Creek, Michigan. My advice: brush up on your Brinsmead.

Give the SDAs credit though, at least they're grappling with the issue, whereas - to my knowledge - Pasifika members of the Sabbath-keeping splinters of the Worldwide Church of God are not.

Problem?  What problem?

Geeky Bible Translations

It's been a while since I put in a plug for The Human Bible, hosted by that affable heretic of the fringe, Bob Price.  The show is already up to episode 11, and the lead topic this time is Bible translations.

Bob is always worth listening to, even when you disagree with him.  For me this is one such time.  Despite being a radical scholar, Bob is a long-time fan of the unreadable NASB, a fundamentalist monstrosity, and the now pensioned-off 1953 RSV.  He also slates the New Jerusalem Bible, NRSV and Revised English Bible as being "politically correct", largely because of their adoption of inclusive language.  Of the modern New Testament versions, Bob can't much see past the J. B. Phillips translation which first saw the light back in 1962.

Translation is a funny thing.  There are two languages in the case of the NT, one obviously being koine Greek.  The other, however, is English, and not 1950s or 1960s English either, let alone English from 1611.  One of the characteristics of today's English is the use of inclusive language where both men and women are referred to.  To translate first and second century Greek into contemporary English you have to make that shift.  This isn't "political correctness," it's just best practice.  That's why Phillips (which is a tremendous translation), the RSV and other earlier versions now tend to grate on any reader younger than forty.  More on this maybe in a later posting.

But by no means let me put you off.  The Human Bible is one of the very best podcasts currently available, and a lot more entertaining than anything else in the genre.

Feeling protective about God

The latest killing spree in the US has its bizarre elements as well as its tragedy.  That the shootings occured during the screening of a Batman movie - a character who is the embodiment of vigilante justice - is one example.  What struck me more forcibly, however, was a comment by Anita Busch, a spokesperson for the family of 23 year old victim Micayla Medek.  "I hope this evil act, that this evil man, doesn't shake people's faith in God." 

People say some strange things under stress, but in the wake of another rampage by a spoilt twenty-something brat, to be concerned about God taking a PR hit would seem to be somewhat beside the point.