Perhaps the event that changed the course of history and how we understand ourselves can be summed up with these simple words, "Abram went."
Abram was a Sumerian (read Chaldean) businessman who was quite settled and prosperous. Sumeria is the land of the Fertile Crescent and home, at that time, to the Hanging Gardens of Babylon (obviously in Babylon).
God summoned Abram to leave it all and go where The Lord would direct him.
These are the words from Genesis:
The Lord had said to Abram, "Leave your country, your people and your father's household and go to the land I will show you."--Genesis 12:1 (NIV)
There was a substantial promise attached to this directive, but notice the sparsity of language used by The Lord in His address to Abram.
"Leave."
"Go."
"I will show you."
No detailed directions. No itinerary.
Here is the promise:
"I will make you into a great nation
and I will bless you;
I will make your name great,
and you will be a blessing.
[3] I will bless those who bless you,
and whoever curses you I will curse;
and all peoples on earth
will be blessed through you."
--Genesis 12:2-3 (NIV)
But still, not a lot to go on.
Speaking of Lot; he was Abram's brother. We probably know more about Lot's wife and her "salty" reputation that we do of Lot. (It's in Genesis, too.)
Abram's response to The Voice: "Abram went ..."--Genesis 12:4
Up until Abram such a thing had not happened.
He went.
The Voice said, "Go," and Abram went.
Later, Abram is described as a "friend" of God and as a "righteous" man.
He gets my vote on both, because his "going" changed the course of human history.
First, he was the first to respond to The Voice.
Second, just the fact that he went, with nothing more to go on than The Voice.
Others responded to the voice in the centuries that followed:
Moses.
Elijah.
The prophets.
And then, after God had not spoken for a long time:
Mary.
And some simple fishermen, two pairs of brothers named Simon and Andrews, along with James and John.
As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." At once they left their nets and followed him. When he had gone a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John in a boat, preparing their nets. Without delay he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him. --Mark 1:16-20 (NIV)
Leaving everything to go where The Voice leads.
Leaving everything to follow Jesus the Word.
"Abram went."
That may be a good epithet for a tombstone, mine even: "Jim went."
Oh, that it may be truer and truer.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
Nova ex veteris
Nova ex veteris.
The phrase, from Latin, means, "The new must be born out of the old."
Which could mean that that which has been is the seedbed for that which is to come. Makes sense.
But what if we use the words "new" and "old" to refer to people? These are words that have always meant a lot to me, especially when referring to human-types.
So then would nova ex veteris come to mean that new things (ideas, ways, etc.) would be born out of old people? In other words, innovations would come from the older crowd.
Gray hair would be a sign of creativity.
Wrinkles would be the crevasses from which the vanguard would spring.
A limp would not mean a wound or damage. Instead, a limp would be the opportunity for a new way of traversing the landscape, always in search of novelty.
I don't think nova ex veteris means that the old and the new are separated from each other, but that they are organically linked in such a way as to be like ground and seed, the one nourishing the other so that new growth might appear and flourish.
Isaiah wrote, in reference to God's continuous rescuing and restoration: For I am about to do a brand-new thing. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness for my people to come home. I will create rivers for them in the desert!--Isaiah 43:19 (NLT)
Rivers in the desert.
Rivers in the desert of despair faced by the recently jobless.
Rivers in the desert of anxiety of the young among us, who wonder both how we got into this mess and what life's got in store for them as they turn toward their futures.
Rivers in the desert of loneliness and isolation that cripples so many and leaves them despondent.
Rivers in the desert of shame, a land inhabited by too many, who can't even imagine that God wants to wash away the pain and the shame and replace it with His stamp of approval.
Rivers in the desert of damaged self-worth, where too many wonder if their lives have any significance at all, who scream into the wasteland, "Do I matter?"
Nova ex veteris.
Maybe the old needs to be put to death in order for the new to arise (and I'm not talking eugenics here--look it up).
Jesus told Nicodemus that we needed to be born anew in order to enter and experience the Life of the Spirit, the Kingdom of God.
Nova ex veteris.
The phrase, from Latin, means, "The new must be born out of the old."
Which could mean that that which has been is the seedbed for that which is to come. Makes sense.
But what if we use the words "new" and "old" to refer to people? These are words that have always meant a lot to me, especially when referring to human-types.
So then would nova ex veteris come to mean that new things (ideas, ways, etc.) would be born out of old people? In other words, innovations would come from the older crowd.
Gray hair would be a sign of creativity.
Wrinkles would be the crevasses from which the vanguard would spring.
A limp would not mean a wound or damage. Instead, a limp would be the opportunity for a new way of traversing the landscape, always in search of novelty.
I don't think nova ex veteris means that the old and the new are separated from each other, but that they are organically linked in such a way as to be like ground and seed, the one nourishing the other so that new growth might appear and flourish.
Isaiah wrote, in reference to God's continuous rescuing and restoration: For I am about to do a brand-new thing. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness for my people to come home. I will create rivers for them in the desert!--Isaiah 43:19 (NLT)
Rivers in the desert.
Rivers in the desert of despair faced by the recently jobless.
Rivers in the desert of anxiety of the young among us, who wonder both how we got into this mess and what life's got in store for them as they turn toward their futures.
Rivers in the desert of loneliness and isolation that cripples so many and leaves them despondent.
Rivers in the desert of shame, a land inhabited by too many, who can't even imagine that God wants to wash away the pain and the shame and replace it with His stamp of approval.
Rivers in the desert of damaged self-worth, where too many wonder if their lives have any significance at all, who scream into the wasteland, "Do I matter?"
Nova ex veteris.
Maybe the old needs to be put to death in order for the new to arise (and I'm not talking eugenics here--look it up).
Jesus told Nicodemus that we needed to be born anew in order to enter and experience the Life of the Spirit, the Kingdom of God.
Nova ex veteris.
The new must be born out of the old.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Lacunae
"The Epic of Gilgamesh" is an ancient Sumerian (read Mesopotamian, which is in the Fertile Crescent, which is defined in large part by the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers, which are in present-day Iraq) text that features, among other things, a story about a Great Flood that is very similar to the biblical story of Noah.
The Gilgamesh story was found by archaeologists who unearthed shards (pieces) of clay tablets which had writing on them. No entire, intact tablets have been found. Only pieces (shards, if you will).
Unfortunately, because only shards have been found, there are "holes" in "The Epic of Gilgamesh," sections of which scholars can only guess. The story, at that point might go one way or it might go another. No one is sure because of the gaps.
These gaps, in this context, are called lacunae. A single gap is a lacuna.
I did not know this word until yesterday, when I looked it up. I am reading a book by a scholar named Thomas Cahill about the Jews, their heritage, and the legacy they have given to all of us. Cahill used the word lacunae to describe the gaps in the ancient Gilgamesh story.
It got me to thinking about gaps (and I don't mean clothing stores).
There are gaps in my story, sections that are not filled in very well, where the meaning or significance of that part of the story can only be guessed at. Hidden, mysteriously tucked away in the recesses of the mind of God, are sections of my life that are now only really known to the Lord because they are lost to my memory and to the memories of those who were also a part of that leg of the journey.
But I find comfort that God is Lord of the Lacunae. He is God of the Gaps.
And, again, I don't mean clothing stores.
The Gilgamesh story was found by archaeologists who unearthed shards (pieces) of clay tablets which had writing on them. No entire, intact tablets have been found. Only pieces (shards, if you will).
Unfortunately, because only shards have been found, there are "holes" in "The Epic of Gilgamesh," sections of which scholars can only guess. The story, at that point might go one way or it might go another. No one is sure because of the gaps.
These gaps, in this context, are called lacunae. A single gap is a lacuna.
I did not know this word until yesterday, when I looked it up. I am reading a book by a scholar named Thomas Cahill about the Jews, their heritage, and the legacy they have given to all of us. Cahill used the word lacunae to describe the gaps in the ancient Gilgamesh story.
It got me to thinking about gaps (and I don't mean clothing stores).
There are gaps in my story, sections that are not filled in very well, where the meaning or significance of that part of the story can only be guessed at. Hidden, mysteriously tucked away in the recesses of the mind of God, are sections of my life that are now only really known to the Lord because they are lost to my memory and to the memories of those who were also a part of that leg of the journey.
But I find comfort that God is Lord of the Lacunae. He is God of the Gaps.
And, again, I don't mean clothing stores.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
