MATL - Theology and Archaeology

Prompt: Discuss 3 discoveries made by the scientists and scholars in the Nova documentary that challenged what you came into this class believing about the Hebrew Bible. Why are these discoveries troubling or challenging? How, specifically, do these discoveries challenge particular doctrines or teachings in your faith tradition? How do they challenge your personal spirituality?

The NOVA documentary identified many different discoveries about which I was either unaware or under-informed.  Only one argument seemed contradictory to my understanding of the Hebrew Bible, and that was the placement of the Exodus during the reign of Ramses II.  I found the discussion about the origins of the Israelites, and the supporting evidence for their existence, fascinating.  I also found the discussion of the evolution of monotheism interesting, in particular the extremely long amount of time the concept took to actually coalesce into standard practice.

The placement of Exodus as an event during the reign of Ramses II is troubling in a superficial, “Oh, I need to cross-reference that,” kind of way.  I wrote a piece of fiction in 8th grade about a girl who traveled back in time and viewed the events of the Exodus story- specifically the plagues of Egypt- through the eyes of an Egyptian concubine. I did a fair amount of reading to determine whether or not the Hollywood myth of Ramses and Moses (born therein my love of Yule Brynner!) was solid enough for a creative writing assignment.  In my research, I found there was no archaeological evidence to support Ramses, but also that any of the Pharaohs in the eighteenth or nineteenth dynasties might have sufficed based on oral Torah dating of the fall of the temple.  The NOVA documentary provided no compelling arguments for or against this preexisting thought of mine.  I thought it surprising that a documentary of the caliber that NOVA typically produces would make such a definitive claim, placing the Exodus story in the hands of Ramses, without also providing better evidence. All NOVA really said is that a people called the Israelites lived during the time of Ramses’ son. This surprise was assuaged a little later in the documentary when the film talked about the likelihood that the Exodus story, along with the stories of Abraham, Isaac, and Joshua (but absent Jacob and Joseph…!) were likely allegorical and deliberately constructed to create a unique and unifying identity for the newly forming Israelite people in Canaan.

The notion that the Israelites were not a group of people genetically descended from Abraham, but rather a motley crew of refugees and social activists coalescing around the fall of the Canaanite city-states is completely new to me.  It sounds like a very reasonable and rational explanation- much more realistic than a mythic and enduring genetic line drawn from a single man. I tentatively accept the premise, although I think it fails to explain the genetic markers common to those of Jewish ancestry rather than just Jewish faith. Perhaps I am misinformed about the nature of this marker, however.  Obviously, this discovery challenges my understanding of the Bible’s documentation of the origins of the Israelites but I’m not distressed by that in the slightest. This affects neither my personal nor dogmatic spirituality- whether the Israelites created their history or really lived it as documented in the Hebrew Bible means little to a Catholic in the 21st century- it still sets the foundation for my religion.

 In a similar vein, I was not surprised to see archaeological evidence of polytheism in the ancient Hebrews until after the exile from Babylon. Indeed, this supports the Biblical writings, which have repeated admonishments about idolatry and false worship. It seems reasonable to this reader that the Bible would only contain the reminders and warnings if they were still necessary, which implies continued polytheism- so documentation of that seems almost expected. I am a fan of Terry Pratchett’s approach to the ‘Small Gods’ and sometimes, in fits of heretical pondering, I wondered if maybe Yaweh was not once also a tortoise in the desert.  The presence of fertility goddess figures, attributed to Ashira, was also unsurprising, although I was surprised by the willingness to use the term ‘wife’ to describe her.  Typically, fertility goddesses and the major god and goddess relationships of polytheistic cultures describe a consort relationship, which indicates more equality in the pairing, and a level of power and control for both the female and male partners.  Anita Diamond, in her historical fiction work The Red Tent, neatly depicts the tension between Jacob’s god and the gods of his wives.  There is inherent tension between a highly male and paternalistic god, who marks his followers with genital mutilation and creates a mark of covenant only available to males, with the goddess who shepherds birth and creation, who marks the menstrual cycles and supports the holiness of women’s blood and childbirth, which in its own way marks a covenant of genital…well, perhaps not mutilation…but is certainly only available to females.  I can see where this sort of revelation could be devastating, particularly to a fundamentalist mindset. I imagine it would be almost as disruptive as arguments about the relationship between Jesus and Mary Magdalene.

 Each of these discoveries and positions, both well supported by archaeology and those still being explored and developed, potentially impact both the spirituality of an individual and the catechistic influence of the impacted religions.  The concept of Yaweh in a consort relationship might raise spirituality questions about Yaweh’s needs or desires, or even why a god demanding sole devotion would engage with a consort, or wonder if the ancient Hebrews were completely mistaken in their understanding and worship practice. Catechistically, this discovery could affect teachings about Jesus and immaculate conception, or about the completeness of God in all things, or whether or not God is the /only/ supreme being or simply placed above the rest.  Theologically, then, the mediation between the questions and the teaching may be to explore how ancient fertility worship was an early attempt to explain God’s completeness and encompassing oneness.  If the early stories of the Hebrew Bible are mostly allegorical and designed to create identity, rather than actually depicting miracles and examples of God’s covenant with his chosen people, theology might explore the reason for defining a covenant in the first place. 

What purpose did the covenant serve, why is the imagery and belief still important today, and what did that belief in and understanding of a special relationship enable?

MATL -Worlds of Readers and Sunscreen.

 Prompt A: Discuss 2 or 3 challenging or new things you learned from the readings (remember to use direct reference and citation, etc.). In what way is this different from, or an expansion on, your prior knowledge? Be very explicit and detailed.

 When tasked with reading critically, students are instructed to "recognize what a text says, what a text does, and what a text means," according to Dan Kurland.  I thought I was a critical reader of the Bible.  The concept of 'behind the text, in the text, and in front of the text' as illustrated by Martha Stortz provides a useful focus to better apply the critical reading components taught by Kurland. Determining what the Bible does and means without using the Stortz methods yields incomplete analysis.  Stortz outlines the risks of those readers who remain just behind, in, or in front of the Bible and writes only with the blending of the three worlds will "a familiar text (the Bible) 'ring true." (p 4.)  My past efforts at Biblical interpretation are primarily stuck in the world 'behind the text.'  I am much more comfortable confronting the Bible in the historical, redaction, textual, or source criticism methodologies (as detailed in the Slide Share by Sr. Auria Avabit) than examining the effects of the readings 'in front of' the Bible.  In particular, I enjoyed employing the redaction critical method, which I considered to be good critical reading. During Mass, I engage the Bible within its world, focusing more on identifying and contemplating the literary styles and techniques of the reading, while leaving the work of assimilating those words to the Father's homily.  In my last entry I mentioned reading the Children's Bible like a story book. That was the intent of that particular publication, but somehow that transferred into my adult relationship with Scripture.  I considered myself a 'scholarly' reader, when in fact I was unaware of the framework for critical study of the Bible offered by Stortz and lacked the specificity to define my approach to the world behind the text without Ababit's presentation.  Reflecting on these scholarly methods and tools helped me identify my own failings and prejudices when studying the Bible.  They offer a challenge for further study, and tools to help guide my progress and effort.

I was also unaware that the Second Vatican Council placed equal emphasis on the Scripture and the Eucharist, as outlined by Fr. Moloney when he quotes that "(t)he community is nourished by the table of the Word as the table of the Eucharist."   Though the Ten Achievements List by Berard Doerger listed "(p)lacing greater emphasis on sacred Scripture" second, I did not understand the gravitas of the achievement until I also listened to Fr. Moloney's lecture.  I reflected on Fr. Moloney's observation that, unfortunately, the Church recently returned to the 'defensive' postures before Vatican II.  I always considered myself to be a very liberal Catholic, but Fr. Moloney has me wondering if I am actually the product of a "defensive" Catholic Church, despite the best efforts of the Second Vatican.  I define myself as a Catholic by embracing the rituals of Mass, the Sacraments, and (to some extent) the authorities of the hierarchy.  Scripture means very little to me and it was only in the past year or so that I felt a desire to explore Scripture more deeply. Even now I shy away from invitations to Christian Life Community (CLC) groups focused on Bible Study. The Bible in my home sits on a bookshelf surrounded by my fiction collection-it is not even stored on the bookshelf containing the hundred titles (or so) retrained from formal education efforts. It certainly does not occupy the place of honor of the nightstand. A stranger touring my home would not assume any particular devotion or devoutness of the occupant…and to my shame, I realize…that stranger would not be wrong.

Prompt B: What is your initial reaction to hearing about a scientific or academic breakthrough that goes against your prior understanding? How do you deal with that? Give some concrete examples of when this has happened in your life.

I honestly cannot think of a time when some new scientific or academic knowledge challenged my understanding of faith.  I was raised that science and faith coexist- that nothing science identifies can contradict or undermine faith because science is also a product of God.  As a child functioning on trust of my parents, I never had a moment at school where that trust felt betrayed. As an adult, I conscientiously accept the two ideas without reservation. For me, science and faith are necessary and complimentary aspects of the same journey.  Science explains how the world works, but faith explains how we are expected to live in the world.

In the (somewhat less distressing) world where new discoveries and challenges come to supplant old theories and ideas, I typically react curiosity, attempting to verify the material in my own mind before assimilating the new information if I am interested in the topic, or with accepting indifference if I am not.  For example, when I learned that Laura Ingalls Wilder may not have written the final manuscripts (and perhaps not even the major drafts) of her beloved fiction books, I immediately set out to learn what evidence was available for the argument. I expanded my reading of her work into her non-fiction work, and started looking up archived articles published by her daughter. I read the interviews published by the adopted grandson and reviewed primary source and secondary materials collected at the different museums. Ultimately, I came to understand the stories were still hers, and the truth of the authorship was an interesting question but not a particularly important one. 

When I disagree with an assessment, I look for supporting evidence and facts to construct a logical counter-argument based on reasoning rather than emotion. For example, the internet is full of lies and myths, and social media provides a gateway for their propagation.  I encountered a suggestion to use plain coconut oil as sunscreen the other day. I thought- that is different than my current understanding of how sunscreen works, and promptly spent six hours reading about sun blocking chemicals, different wavelengths of rays that burn skin, what kinds of materials are most effective at stopping A and B rays, how zinc oxide and similar blocking products cannot be finely distributed through home-rendered products due to the size of their molecules, and the overall effects of oil on skin when combined with sunshine. I came up with a well-rationed and reasonable argument, including sources, that coconut oil alone, in fact, is not a reliable form of sunscreen. In this case, it mattered little because the internet is also full of irrational people who do not like to hear they are misinformed (or are, perhaps, embarrassed for believing some ridiculous things…) so the conversation puttered out after some angry emojis, but it serves to illustrate my typical response to information that challenges my knowledge in negative ways.

I studied history in earlier educational endeavors, and we were taught to embrace that history is subjective to those that survive, and new evidence should always be welcomed and carefully examined.   While training to be an intelligence analyst, I learned the importance of following the evidence, without speculation or personal judgement, as far as possible.  I believe these habits and skills help me encounter potentially monumental or distressing shifts in science or academia with a sense of willingness.  

MATL- Who's the Boss?

Prompt: Please reflect on the following questions: Who has religious authority in Chrisianity? Why? When is authority good? When is authority bad? How does one distinguish between good and bad exercises of authority?

Religious authority in "Christianity" is too broad to define in anything but the vague answer of "God." Christianity assumes that there is a God, and that God reveals himself and his divine purpose to us through the aspect of the Trinity: It comes OF God, FROM Christ, THROUGH the Holy Spirit, and so God is the authority on Christianity.  Of course, as humans with brains and free will, we then reflect on these revelations and draw meanings and interpretations of these ideas and use that to create our beliefs. Authority, then, is the 'control' to monitor these interpretations and judge which are good and worthy, and which are misleading or perhaps even of sinister intent and influence.

In the Catholic Church, then, the 'authority' is first the Pope, and then the hierarchical structure of the Church. I am not particularly well versed in the authority structures of protestant religions, but I think the Church of Latter Day Saints places great emphasis on the writings and teachings of Brigham Young, and many protestant organizations rely on a system of Elders to govern and lead the churches.

To neatly draw boundaries of 'good' and 'bad' authority seems pretty trivial, but I suppose 'good' authorities are those that encourage careful and deliberate evaluation of revelations, that shepherd good intellectual practices and behaviors, and that encourage constant evaluation of the reflections for context and applicability. I think 'bad' authorities are those that are reactionary, driven by fear or a desire to control the ideas and reflections of others, even when those controls are with the best of intent. The difference becomes blurry when an authority figure must evaluate the reflection of a particular bit of theology and finds it contradictory to long-standing accepted dogma: if the authority allows all reflections to pass through, then there is no measurement of 'truth' or 'right'. If the authority rejects all non-conforming reflections, there is a risk that a truth or 'rightness' will be passed over.

I think this dilemma underscores the importance of empowering all people with critical thinking abilities as children, and nurturing that development of skills throughout our lives. Ideally, we would not need an authority if we trusted the ability of any human to experience revelations of God, from Christ, and reflect on them through the Holy Spirit.  Ideally, the authority is each person to themselves.

Of course, this is very idealistic- perhaps the Church should consider a democratic interpretation of authority.

MATL - The Nature of Theological Questions

Prompt: Which questions would say are theological and which are not? How would you identify what you consider to be a theological question? Does the question need to inquire into the divine nature to be theological? For example, would a question regarding the nature of the human person be theological? If so, why? If not, why not?

Alister McGrath writes that theology is "think(ing) systematically about the fundamental ideas of Christianity.  It is intellectual reflection on the act, content, and implications of the Christian faith."   Asking theological questions, then, means asking questions that seek to increase the understanding of a particular aspect of a Christian faith, and to increase understanding about why Christian faiths embrace certain ideas. [1]   McGrath also emphasizes, in summarizing Augustine of Hippo's major contribution to theology, that reason is a helpful tool in theology, but must be used critically.  This refers to critical thinking, rather than criticism of the material. Critically evaluating divine revelations (using human reason, to paraphrase Thomas Aquinas) means exploring and expanding on the revelation in a way that solves a problem, answers a question, or contributes to the larger field of theology in a substantial and meaningful way. 

Critical thinking encourages students to ask meaningful questions designed to resolve problems, regardless of their discipline.[2] When applied to theology, this means good theological questions are asked with a clear purpose or intent. It is not sufficient to explore an idea 'just because' it sounds interesting or challenging to the questioner- rather, it should serve a higher purpose  in contributing to the overall clarity or applicability of a faith- it may contribute to or challenge doctrine. In Christian theology, then, theological questions should contribute to a deeper and more profound understanding of what it is to be Christian, and why.  To again draw from McGrath's works, if the Apostle's Creed is a useful vehicle for outlining the major tenants of Christianity, good theological questions likely explore the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit, or some combination thereof. This may include topics of grace, of holy unity, of the trinity, or the applicability of these mysteries into the lives of humans. 

In accepting the Christian belief that God is the Creator of all things, it is impossible to ask theological questions that do not inquire into the divine. God is in all things, therefore all questions can, ultimately, be theological. The intent and purpose of the questioner determines whether or not the answer to the question is explored within the framework of theology or another discipline, but the lack of theological exploration does not negate its existence- it may simply be left for another questioner to explore.

1. (McGrath, Alister E. Theology: The Basics. Malden, MA: Blackwell Pub., 2004, preface, page xii)

2. Problem, as used here, may mean conflict or issue, but may also mean topic, questions of a profound nature, puzzle or intellectual quandary, or a divine mystery.  Problems are troublesome and disruptive, even if just to the emotional state of the thinker. 

MATL - A Theological Question

Prompt: When have you felt particularly gripped by a theological question? How did it come up?Did you reach a solution? Did you find yourself still grappling with similar questions?

The re-translation of the English version of the Roman Missal, released and implemented beginning with Advent of 2011, posed a major liturgical theological question for me.  The purpose of the re-translation was to emphasize the importance of ‘most accurate or literal translation possible’ of the original Latin. This decree stated that the vernacular translations should contain no paraphrasing or adaptation of the phrases.  The reissue created changes most visibly within the Mass, such as using "And with your spirit," rather than "also with you" as a responsorial to an offering of peace, or altering the order and content of the Gloria, "Peace to God's People on Earth," becoming "and on Earth, peace to men of Good Will."

During the Second Vatican Council, much discussion was devoted to vernacular language. The purpose of allowing the business and teachings of the Church to occur in vernacular language was to deepen the connection and spirituality of the congregation to the various liturgies they engaged with. There was wide recognition that Latin had long-since ceased to be a primary language in the world- both in terms of commerce and diplomacy.  The Church also recognized its global presence, including areas like Asia and South America, where Latin was not as accessible.  While rote memorization of the "mass parts" or even the Mass itself was certainly possible for Catholics, maintaining the daily operations of the Church in Latin outside of arenas where Latin was a viable and fluent language actually created barriers between the congregation and the Church.  Accepting vernacular translations in no way diminished the tradition of Latin, but embraced the current world content as a new way to reach out and engage with the faithful and, perhaps, to evangelize more effectively.

As anyone who speaks more than one language knows, part of the art of translation resides in translating the intent and content of the words, rather than just the literal translation.  The retranslations are awkward and cumbersome to fluent English speakers- the words lack cadence and flow, and create illogical sentence structures. They are not "good" translations by the standards of any English-speaking individual, however 'literally accurate' they might be.  Indeed, because they are so awkward and illogical, I think the translation actually diminishes the truth of the rite- it creates a barrier between the congregation and the Word.

I struggled, and still struggle, with the intent of the translations. It seems to undo the good works of the Second Vatican- I trend I also see echoed in the calls for a return to more conservative "traditional" (read: pre Second Vatican, post Council of Trent) ideas and standards for the Church. Obviously, as a woman, I feel this would undo what little progress towards integration of women leadership in the Church we have made, and indeed threatens to relegate women to the periphery of the faith. Changing the translations is just the first step of acquiescing to those who are fearful of change.

I have not resolved this theological question. I am open to learning more about doctrine and tradition, but for now, I still quietly say: Peace be with you…and also with you.

MATL - Define Theology

Prompt: Imagine you are invited to write an entry in a an encyclopedia for "theology." You are limited to 300 words.

Theology (Greek: theo; 'god' + logos 'reason or plan'). Theology is the systematic study of the fundamental ideas of a faith and the outcomes of those reflections.[1] It is most commonly associated with Christianity, although some efforts have been made to explore and develop a theology of other religions.  Originating with the ancient Greek philosopher Plato, theology was originally used to describe and evaluate the mythical or divine.  Eventually, the word was adopted by early Christian thinkers as an expression for their efforts to intellectually evaluate and reflect on God (now a monotheistic concept) and to develop the fundamental concepts of the Christian faith.[2] These concepts may form the doctrines of belief systems and influence or guide the progression of the faith through history.  Theology is also a means of interpreting or clarifying the tenants or truths of a faith through the lens of other scholastic or cultural tools (ancilla thologiae.)[3] Today, theology is typically considered an academic field of study, applicable both to efforts of studying Christianity and as a basis for scholars interested in the detailed study of disciplines such as Western history, literature, or art.   Like many large scholarly fields, there are many areas of specialization within theology, including focus on God, the Trinity, the world, the concepts of salvation or the study of end times.[4]

1: McGrath, Alister E. Theology: The Basics. Malden, MA: Blackwell Pub., 2004.

2: Neville, Robert Cummings. "Theology." Encyclopedia of Science and Religions. 2003.

3: McGrath, Alister E. Theology: The Basics. Malden, MA: Blackwell Pub., 2004.

4: Thielicke, Helmut. "Theology." Encyclopedia Britannica.