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Assorted

Why Charlie Kirk’s death hit so hard

For a time, in September, my Facebook feed – I’m sure yours too – was full of tributes to Charlie Kirk. At this point, I don’t need to tell you that Kirk was big. He was the founder of Turning Point USA, an organization maybe best known for setting up tables at university campuses across the USA, with Kirk, and sometimes his friends too, willing to debate anyone who would take the mic. Some give Kirk credit for Trump’s win in 2024, because of the way Turning Point was so effective in its outreach to young voters.

I felt a weight when I heard about his assassination. And the weight increased as I processed. Maybe that’s how you felt too.

If you track the news, it’s been a heavy year. Overdoses. Transgenderism. Abortion. Stabbings. Euthanasia. Shootings. Never mind the economy. Now this.

But why is this hitting so hard? I only watched Kirk’s videos occasionally. Why am I mourning someone who had so little impact on my day-to-day life? Of course, you have to feel sad for his loved ones – but it’s not that kind of grief. Assassinations are jarring, by nature. Not that I’ve lived through too many.

But this is different.

Charlie Kirk’s murder crystallized the hatred that I’ve been seeing directed towards Christian ideas and towards prolife activists. The hatred that activist Christians have felt directed our way through the condescension and the shouts, now manifested through murder. Across America, and Canada too, thousands celebrated. Mocked. Laughed. Who watches a man die, and laughs? That scares me. The apostle John equated hatred with murder (1 John 3:15), and I’ve never felt how close that link is until now.

In her video commemorating Charlie, Christian commentator Allie Beth Stuckey put it, “We’re bringing words. They’re bringing weapons.”

Ultimately, Charlie Kirk was murdered for views that I hold. Probably not all of them, but the fundamentals. Many of those views are non-negotiable Christian convictions that you and I and all God’s people hold. Christianity wasn’t a part of Kirk’s message: it was the driving force behind it.

The gap and the bridge

For a while, it’s been pretty clear that Christianity stands at odds with secular beliefs.
Now, two seemingly contradictory things come to mind:

1. It’s not an “us” versus “them”
We can’t just write off everyone on the other side. Christ came and died for us while we were still His enemies (Romans 5:8-10), and if not for Him, we would be enemies still. So, if God can do that for us, what might He be working in those folks over there? So we need to talk.

As Charlie put it:

“When people stop talking, really bad stuff starts. When marriages stop talking, divorce happens. When churches , they fall apart. When civilization stops talking, civil war ensues. When you stop having a human connection with someone you disagree with, it becomes a lot easier to want to commit violence against that group.”

The Christian response is to treat everyone with dignity (Matt. 7:12), and pray for anyone who hates us (Matt. 5:43-44).

2. There are two sides
We can’t be confused about how there are two sides (Josh. 5:13-14): God’s side, and everyone else’s. As God’s people we are, and are called to be, fundamentally different. To me, the spiritual battle was brought to light by this assassin’s physical act.

Are these two conflicting views? No. These both make sense when we recognize what we share with our enemies: we’re all made in the image of God (Gen. 9:6), and we’re all in desperate need of a Savior. We can look across the divide in humility knowing there but for the grace of God, go I.

Social media makes both sides think, “Duh!?”

The algorithms selecting what’ll show up in our social media feeds only sharpen the division, making it difficult to actually have compassion for others. Everyone wonders:

How can anybody support ____? It’s just so obviously wrong!

Then we all click on what we want to see, and afterwards the algorithm feeds us more and more of the same.

My liberal friend commented, “He shouldn’t have been killed. But he said the gun deaths are worth it, so it just feels ironic.”

Worth it. Worth what? Did he really say that? What did he mean? But the internet clip stops right there. “Hah,” laughs an anti-gun activist. The assumption is that had Charlie known he would be killed by a gunman, then his tune would’ve changed. I disagree, largely because I got to see what else Charlie said.

Another thing Kirk said was: “I don’t believe in empathy,” and since his murder that quote has been pasted across the Internet. “How heartless can you be?” thinks the social studies student. Missed is the next phrase that isn’t included: “I prefer sympathy.” And Kirk went on from there to explain why.

One student asked him, “If your ten-year-old daughter was raped, would you want her to have the baby?” Kirk answered: “Yes.” Some stop listening at “yes.” Those who listen longer hear a compassionate “why.”

Explanations on immigration and marriage aren’t heard, but clips “proving” xenophobia, transphobia, and homophobia dominate YouTube. Charity is dead. Assumptions of good intent are gone, and undiscerning scrolling forms a worldview. Those who hear only what they want call him a hateful, dangerous fascist. When that’s your belief, then all redeeming qualities fail. They’re not redeeming qualities at all – they’re manipulation tactics.

And assassinating a fascist is a heroic act.

One spray-painted billboard read: “Death to all Charlie Kirks.”

That’s enough Internet for me today.

Can we get back to normal life?

It’s tempting to dismiss this as a one-time event. A crazy person shot a MAGA activist. We’re not American. Most people aren’t crazy. Right?

Maybe we could start to be discerning again. More neutral. The words “He had it coming,” will always be wrong. But we might reflect, “Should he really have linked his Christianity so closely with partisan politics?” or “He was unnecessarily controversial… if he just spoke the Gospel, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Not quite victim blaming, but maybe we should adjust the halo a bit? Should we really call him a martyr?

If he is one – if that’s what we were to conclude – we’d also have to conclude that Christianity itself is hated, not just some Christians who don’t put a good face to it. Then it’s not just about Charlie; you and I are hated. And I think the 100+ church burnings across Canada in the last 5 years bear witness to Who is really hated.

So no, this wasn’t a matter of tone. We don’t look at prophets in the Old Testament, and suggest perhaps their tone was off. Sorry, Jeremiah. You were a bit harsh there - a little too blunt on that one!

Watch any of his videos – in whole – and listen to those who knew him; Charlie Kirk was incredibly patient and well-versed. He was grounded in the Gospel, in both public and personal life. Many young people attribute their own shift to conservatism to Charlie Kirk, and many are now opening their Bibles for the first time while navigating the loss.

Charlie Kirk was targeted because he was effective.

The turning point

I’m not the first to say this – it’s ringing all over the Internet: in the bullet, hate took a physical form.

And this is how Charlie’s wife responded: “You have no idea what you have just unleashed across this world and across this entire nation.” Erika Kirk is right, God has so used this that in Charlie’s death his voice has been amplified. His videos are being watched even more. And I’m excited for all the new voices who have been emboldened to speak. Christian voices.

As I’m writing this, a lot has already been said. An insane amount of commentary. But the hate felt personal, so I wrote too.

I’ve done outreach – speaking up for the unborn – some of it on university campuses. My life hasn’t been in danger, but the hate’s been the same. The people in Kirk’s videos are the same sort that pro-life activists talk to every day on the streets. Like Charlie Kirk, I enjoy talking to someone who radically disagrees with me; I get to show my own humanity, and I get to tear down the image of heartless, ignorant pro-life monsters that they’ve crafted about us in their minds.

Conclusion

Charlie’s assassination brought it home: they hate us – they really hate us. And there are so many of them.

I wrote a poem a few years ago, while struggling with the weight of others’ opinions of me. I find it a good measure for checking my own heart and actions. Am I doing something wrong, or am I just scared of being ridiculed? Am I hesitant to speak because I think it’s prudent, or because I fear the opinions of others?

Strive, at the end of the day
When fingers are pointed my way,
To have no fault but Thine.

Let them hate my faithfulness, I say.
Your laws, they laugh at.
Your love, they despise.
I pray, they find those in me,
And be not me, they criticize.

You and I both know we’ll do it imperfectly. But that’s not the calling. We don’t have to worry about perfection – Jesus has accomplished that for us. The outcome of evangelism isn’t on us either.

But obedience is. May God grant us the courage to speak out boldly and patiently to a world that so desperately needs to hear His Good News.

Picture is adapted from one by Gage Skidmore and used under a CC BY-SA 2.0 license.



News

ARPA condemned in BC legislature

On the very first day of the fall legislative session, British Columbia MLAs debated the “views and policies of Association for Reformed Political Action” for almost an hour. The debate was over a motion tabled by the NDP:

“That this House condemns the intolerant views of the Association for Reformed Political Action (ARPA), including its harmful discrimination against transgender people, its belief that homosexuality is ‘immoral’ and its explicit policy goal of restricting abortion access in British Columbia.”

The NDP’s motive for the motion seemed to be to condemn the Conservative opposition for attending ARPA’s MLA reception at the BC legislature back in April. However, the debate never talked about the two issues that ARPA specifically raised at that reception: medical gender transitioning for minors, and euthanasia.

By what standard?

Several NDP, Green, and independent MLAs rose to condemn ARPA’s positions on gender identity, sexual orientation, same-sex marriage, conversion therapy, abortion, IVF, and surrogacy. They argued that ARPA’s views violate various rights and freedoms and run counter to principles of diversity, equity, inclusion, and tolerance.

Now, it goes without saying that ARPA – and all Christians – are in favor of all of these things when viewed in a proper way. In fact, a recognition of rights and the practice of tolerance only really arose in the Christian West.

What this debate exposed is what happens when these things are unmoored from their Christian anchors and made our ultimate political goals. If the expansion of freedom becomes the most important aim of politics, then medical transitioning for minors makes sense. If diversity is the legislature’s most sacred value, then opposition to gay marriage is indeed out of place.

But orthodox Christians know all of these values – rights and freedoms, equity and tolerance – are not the ultimate basis for morality or justice. Rather, the ultimate basis for just laws is God’s revelation to us in His Word and creation. MLAs spent a whole lot of time talking about rights in this hour of debate. But they spent virtually no time talking about what is right. They refused to acknowledge how removing the breasts of a fourteen-year-old girl in the name of “gender-affirming care” is not in her best interest. They refused to consider whether providing euthanasia to the mentally ill might be a step too far even for them. They refused to contemplate whether pre-born children at 35 weeks of age deserve any protections in law.

Calling good evil (Is. 5:20)

Instead, MLAs voted 48-3 to condemn ARPA’s “intolerant” views. (The text of the motion uses “intolerant,” but the word “hateful” was bandied about the most.) Here’s how the vote broke down:

  • The entire NDP and Green caucuses, along with independent Elenore Sturko, voted to condemn ARPA.
  • The two MLAs from OneBC, and another independent, Jordan Kealy, voted against the motion and spoke up to defend ARPA.
  • None of the Conservative MLAs opted to be present for the vote. The lone Conservative speaker to the motion accused the motion of being a “political trap.”

All of this might remind us of the words of Jesus in John 15:18-21:

“If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. But all these things they will do to you on account of my name, because they do not know him who sent me.”

If Reformed Christians were of the world – if we supported medical gender transitioning, same-sex marriage, or abortion on demand, or kept silent about them all – these MLAs would not have condemned ARPA. Reformed Christians strive to stand publicly for what God reveals to be true. God says that He created two sexes? That’s how it is. He designed marriage to be between one man and one woman for life? That’s our definition too. God created human life to begin at conception and commands us not to murder? Then abortion is wrong. Recognizing and honoring these truths is good for everyone.

What true love looks like

Our motivation, then, for raising these issues is one of love. Earlier in John 15, Christ says:

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my Name, He may give it to you. These things I command you, so that you will love one another.”

And that’s what ARPA and all Reformed Christians should intend to do. We endeavor to love our fellow citizens. This includes not just the fellow brothers and sisters in Christ that Jesus has in mind here, but all people, as Jesus taught in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. We call for a law against abortion because we love pre-born children. We love children who are confused about their gender. We love the same-sex couple next door. And yes, we ought to love the MLAs who voted yesterday to condemn ARPA. For, as John wrote later, “we love because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19).

And so, in this condemnation of ARPA in the BC legislature, as Reformed Christians we might feel “afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Cor. 4:8-9). For we know that “we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us” (Rom. 8:37).

But in light of the fact that few MLAs stood up to defend ARPA – much less defend the bodily integrity of gender dysphoric children or the lives of those threatened by euthanasia or abortion – our provincial representatives need to hear from us. Encourage them not to be afraid to discuss the issues that desperately need our government’s attention, but to boldly hold the government to account.

A version of this article was first posted to ARPACanada.ca


Today's Devotional

October 9 - Rebuke them sharply

“Therefore, rebuke them sharply, that they may be sound in the faith, not devoting themselves to Jewish myths and the commands of people who turn away from the truth.” - Titus 1:13b-14

Scripture reading:Galatians 5:1-15; Titus 1:10-16

Legalism can be a danger for any Christian, but particularly for new Christians. It might be out of eagerness to get a feel for the new >

Today's Manna Podcast

Manna Podcast banner: Manna Daily Scripture Meditations and open Bible with jar logo

This Blessed First Day

Serving #990 of Manna, prepared by C. Bosch, is called "This Blessed First Day".



















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Christian education, Theology

Why biblical poetry matters

Skim through any modern Bible and you will notice something peculiar: many pages are laid out as poetry, with appropriate spacing and indents. But have you ever wondered what makes these verses poetic? For most people, this subject remains an enigma, and some will wonder why they should even care. Poetry seems like the wrapping around a present, or the envelope for a card — superfluous and largely decorative. It is the message that is important, and paying attention to the form may be a distraction. Of course, for a believer that should be a flimsy argument. Surely God loves beauty and complexity (Gen 1:31, Psalm 139:14), and although beauty is fleeting (Prov. 31:30), that is no excuse to ignore it.1 It does not make sense when Christians stand in awe of a gorgeous sunset, or we all hang the same poem about footprints on our walls, but we cannot be bothered to learn how the Psalms were composed. Beautiful in any language The astonishing thing about biblical poetry is that it generally translates into any language. The principal technique is not a matter of meter or rhyme: it has to do with the structure of the lines. In most cases, two or more lines run parallel to each other. Consider Psalm 122:7: May there be peace within your walls and security within your citadels. You can see that the terms run parallel. Peace and security mirror each other, as do the walls and citadels. The name for this type of poetry is Hebrew Parallelism. In what follows, we’ll explore how this poetic technique works and why it matters. Robert Lowth’s rediscovery of Parallelism It was the Anglican Bishop Robert Lowth who in the 18th century rediscovered Hebrew Parallelism. For centuries, Christians had been confused about how best to describe biblical poetics. According to Lowth, Hebrew parallelism typically follows one of three patterns: Synonymous Antithetic Synthetic2 Let’s take a closer look at each of these. The example we just looked at is a form of synonymous parallelism. In such cases, the same idea is repeated in similar language. One of the more famous examples of consistent synonymous parallelism is Psalm 114: 1 When Israel came out of Egypt, Jacob from a people of foreign tongue, 2 Judah became God’s sanctuary, Israel his dominion. 3 The sea looked and fled, the Jordan turned back; 4 the mountains leaped like rams, the hills like lambs. 5 Why was it, sea, that you fled? Why, Jordan, did you turn back? 6 Why, mountains, did you leap like rams, you hills, like lambs? 7 Tremble, earth, at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the God of Jacob, 8 who turned the rock into a pool, the hard rock into springs of water. In this psalm, every verse consists of a mirroring of terms. Lowth felt that parallelism might be compared to the way two choirs can sing back and forth — a type of chant known as antiphony. Lowth speculated that the Jews might have incorporated something similar in their worship. Think of Psalm 136, where the refrain “His love endures forever” is a repeated response. Lowth’s second type, antithetic parallelism, involves a sharp contrast. It is particularly common in the book of Proverbs: A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones. (Prov. 17:22) The poor plead for mercy, but the rich answer harshly. (Prov. 18:23) The idea is that when we reflect on such contrasts, we can grow in wisdom. Finally, Lowth used synthetic parallelism as a catch-all category for anything that is not synonymous or antithetic. Synthetic parallelism typically involves a progression of ideas, so that one thing follows another. Take this passage from Psalm 84: 5 Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. 6 As they pass through the Valley of Baka, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. 7 They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion. While the end of verse 6 may contain an element of synonymous parallelism, these verses are more about developing an idea. In keeping with the focus on pilgrimage, the emphasis is on movement. Two of Lowth’s examples of synthetic parallelism eventually came to have their own names. The first is now usually called staircase or climactic parallelism. Psalm 93:3-4 provides a dramatic example: 3 The seas have lifted up, Lord, the seas have lifted up their voice; the seas have lifted up their pounding waves. 4 Mightier than the thunder of the great waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea— the Lord on high is mighty. The repetition of phrases (like a staircase) creates a crescendo that builds to a climax. In this passage, we can imagine the waves growing in size! Another type of synthetic parallelism is commonly called numerical parallelism. This is a poetic use of counting, something that is used to great effect in Amos 1: 3 For three sins of Damascus, even for four, I will not relent. The same device occurs four more times in the rest of the chapter. The Sharpening Theory Robert Lowth established the basics of Hebrew Parallelism, yet his simple categories were not beyond criticism. Scholars objected that the synthetic category was ill-defined, that the term parallelism may imply too much similarity between the lines, and that parallel structures are not exclusive to poetry, but can be found elsewhere in the Bible as well. The most forceful critique came in 1981 from James Kugel, the author of The Idea of Biblical Poetry: Parallelism and Its History.3 Kugel developed what we might call the “Sharpening Theory” of Hebrew Parallelism. To understand what he meant, it is good to reflect on the nature of proverbs. Proverbs are a bit like riddles. When someone says, “the apple does not fall far from the tree,” it takes us a moment to figure out what that really means. A proverb makes us stop and think. James Kugel points out that in the Bible this quality is sometimes described as a certain sharpness. A proverb pricks our conscience and makes us reflect on the proper way to act. Unfortunately, the fool feels the prick, but does not benefit from it: Like a thornbush in a drunkard’s hand is a proverb in the mouth of a fool. (Proverbs 26:9) If we take these observations about proverbs and apply them to Hebrew Parallelism, then we see that the parallel lines also force us to slow down and consider their relationship. At first, we might observe mostly repetition, but a closer look reveals that there is more to the picture. The unique features of each line stand out in sharp relief. This makes reading the Bible exciting. The following verse provides a good example: Through love and faithfulness sin is atoned for; through the fear of the Lord evil is avoided. (Proverbs 16:6) Is the same thought expressed twice? Not really. Not only do the lines mention different, yet related actions (love and faithfulness; the fear of the Lord), but the verse makes us contemplate the connection between atonement and avoidance of sin. Atonement might make up for past transgressions, whereas avoidance is about future temptations. In this way, the proverb creates a complex picture that encourages the righteous to live wisely. Midrash James Kugel further pointed out that Jewish rabbis who interpreted the Bible preferred to focus on the differences between parallel lines. In the Jewish tradition, the word Talmud refers to a variety of rabbinic texts that came to supplement the Old Testament books. After the return from exile in Babylon (6th century BC), the Jews increasingly developed an oral tradition that interpreted the Torah (the five books of Moses) and added further regulations and customs. Written compilations of the Talmud stem from as early as the third century AD. The act of interpreting the Talmud and the Bible came to be known as Midrash. This word refers to both rabbinic interpretation and an actual written collection of such interpretations. Rabbis who practiced Midrash (especially during medieval times) often came up with ingenious ways to contrast poetic lines that seemed to say the same thing. Let’s look at a couple of examples that Kugel provides. First, we read in Genesis 21:1: Now the Lord was gracious to Sarah as he had said, and the Lord did for Sarah what he had promised . Sounds the same. But at least one commentator suggested that the last “he” might refer to Abraham. A couple of verses earlier (Gen. 20:17), Abraham had prayed on behalf of Abimelek: Then Abraham prayed to God, and God healed Abimelek, his wife and his female slaves so they could have children again. Taking this line into consideration, Gen. 21:1 might be interpreted to mean: Now the Lord was gracious to Sarah as he had said, and the Lord did for Sarah what he, Abraham, had spoken to God about in his prayer, namely to provide fertility. Suddenly the two lines become quite different in meaning. The second pronoun he now refers to Abraham. Here is another example, from the instructions for Passover celebrations: Do not eat it with bread made with yeast, but for seven days eat unleavened bread. (Deuteronomy 16:3) A midrashic reading might note that these are two different commandments—a negative and a positive one. Not only must bread with yeast not be eaten, but unleavened bread must be eaten. It is in part because medieval rabbis were so focused on the differences that a full understanding of Hebrew Parallelism was lost during this time and had to be recovered by scholars such as Robert Lowth. At the same time, the Midrash does remind us not to assume that parallelism is always about exact similarity. The differences are important! A dynamic movement Kugel’s Sharpening Theory has us examine each set of parallel lines on its own terms. Instead of reducing parallelism to a few main types, we look for a wide variety of features. For each verse, the question is, how does the second line (B) extend the first (A)? To use Kugel’s wording, it’s not “A=B” but “A, and what’s more, B.” Instead of Lowth’s three main categories, we can now have any number of relationships between A and B. It is up to each reader to meditate carefully on the subtle similarities and differences between the lines. The scholar Robert Alter, expanding on the work of James Kugel, provides a great description of this relationship between A and B. He talks about a “dynamic movement.”4 The second line should never seem predictable or merely repetitive. There’s something captivating about the way the thought is extended. For Alter, the second line often includes an intensification or focusing of the first thought. You can compare it to seeing something and then getting out the binoculars or microscope to take a closer look. The tricolon (a triple parallelism) in Psalm 100:3 provides a great example: Know that the Lord is God. It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. Each line zooms in a little. Each line makes the thought more specific. This dynamic movement between the lines requires our participation. As readers, we are drawn into the text. If that sounds like a lot of work, then recall that Hebrew Parallelism is also quite slow-moving and unhurried. Each idea is expressed in multiple ways. The effect is somewhat like hearing a choir sing in a cathedral, repeating phrases and letting their voices echo through the cavernous space. This is not to say that an Old Testament psalm is like a Bach aria, but that in both cases the speed and cadence is measured and controlled. Important phrases and ideas come back in new form, so that we do not only listen for individual lines, but we also gradually gain a sense of the whole piece. The big picture Speaking of the composition as a whole, the final step is to put it all together. It is one thing to spot parallel structures, but it requires more practice to discern how the lines work together. For example, Psalm 133 has quite a neat and tidy structure, with two similes (verses 2 and 3a) framed by an opening statement (1) and a conclusion (3b): 1 How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity! 2 It is like precious oil poured on the head, running down on the beard, running down on Aaron’s beard, down on the collar of his robe. 3 It is as if the dew of Hermon were falling on Mount Zion. For there the LORD bestows his blessing, even life forevermore. Verse 2 is a great example of what Robert Lowth called staircase parallelism. This technique is all about movement and intensification. Just as the oil runs down the high-priest’s beard, so the lines flow on and on. The liquid imagery is extended in the comparison to dew. Clearly, the author of Psalm 133 thought carefully about best to match the form of the poem to the content. The poetry helps to express the message. In other words, not only should brothers live in harmony, but the psalm itself has to have a sense of “unity.” Conclusion In addition to Hebrew Parallelism (the main feature of biblical poetry), God’s Word displays many other poetic techniques (personification, chiasmus, etc.). For a long time, Christians have been content to ignore these features, whereas in reality the beauty of the Bible provides an incredible appeal. Why is a passage such as Isaiah 53 so moving? Why do we memorize Psalm 23 or 103? The poetry in these passages does not detract from the truth of scripture, but makes it resonate in our hearts. I imagine many conversion stories also include an element of awe at the sublimity of Holy Scripture. Mission work is enhanced by bringing out those qualities that make the Bible the Great Book. I would therefore encourage Christian parents and educators to know the basics of biblical poetry, not only for their own appreciation, but also so they can teach children to marvel at the beauty of the Bible. Psalm 19 describes how the heavens “pour forth speech” (verse 3), before adding, paradoxically, “They have no speech, they use no words; / no sound is heard from them.” Creation can speak of the glory of God, without using actual words. Indeed, we teach children that Nature displays God’s goodness and faithfulness. But Psalm 19 points out that God’s Word (the “law”) is likewise worth meditating on, and it does contain words and speech. The “precepts of the Lord” are “sweeter than honey” and give “light to the eyes.” The fact that the Psalmist used paradoxes, metaphors, and parallelism to describe his delight in the Word can only mean that biblical poetry is an equally nourishing and eye-opening experience. So, take the time to study and appreciate the poetry of the Bible, not just to know why some lines are indented on the page, but to truly savour the divine artistry of the Word. Dr. Conrad van Dyk is Professor of English at Concordia University of Edmonton, where he teaches everything from medieval literature to children’s classics. Recently he has started creating online literary courses from a Christian perspective (and for a reasonable price). The very first course is a detailed introduction to biblical poetry which you can find at LitCompanion.com. Portions of this course have been used in this article. He attends Immanuel Canadian Reformed Church in Edmonton. Endnotes 1) Quotations from the Bible are from the NIV, with one exception. For Psalm 133, I have reintroduced the word “brothers.” 2) I have used G. Gregory’s English translation (1753) of Robert Lowth’s On the Sacred Poetry of the Hebrews, which is freely available online. 3) See James Kugel, The Idea of Biblical Poetry: Parallelism and Its History (Yale UP, 1981). The examples of Midrash are taken from Kugel, pp. 98-106; the discussion of how A and B relate can be found on p. 8. Kugel’s ideas were developed by S. E. Gilllingham, The Poems and Psalms of the Hebrew Bible (Oxford UP, 1994), who suggests that we tend to see three patterns of parallelism, i.e., A=B (comparison and contrast), A>B (the second line is subordinated to the first), and A<B (where the second line develops the first, for example through intensification or comparison). A summary of Gillingham’s approach can be found in William W. Klein, Craig L. Blomberg, and Robert L. Hubbard, Jr., Introduction to Biblical Interpretation (Thomas Nelson, 2004), p. 289ff. Personally, I prefer Kugel’s less formulaic approach, where each set of lines is treated on its own terms. 4) Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Poetry (Basic Books, 1985), p. 10....

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Humor, Theology

Humor and the life of faith

"And I knew there could be laughter On the secret face of God"  – G. K. Chesterton ***** Nothing is quite so ironic as to talk seriously about humor. Yet it would be perverse to treat the subject of Christian humor with irreverence or anything approaching vulgarity. And by Christian humor I do not mean those harmless puns and riddles that are often classified as Bible jokes. Who is the shortest person in the Bible? Who is the only person in the Bible who doesn’t have any parents?1 If Christian humor ended there, then we might feel slightly cheated. There must be more. And indeed, humor is more than an occasional joke; it is indicative of a broader attitude to life. We see this most clearly in the word “comedy.” In literature, the term means simply a story with a happy ending – it doesn’t even have to be funny. You might say that the story of salvation is a divine comedy, for it promises a life happily ever after. Of course, to unbelievers this faith in the afterlife is itself a joke. To some extent, then, the question is who will have the last laugh. So let’s take a closer look at this comedy of salvation. Does the biblical narrative include any humor, and what role should laughter play in our life of faith? Humor in the Bible When I was still growing up – a process that may not have ended – my father sometimes liked to refer to “humor in the Bible.” But looking back I had no recollection of what he actually meant by that. Was he referring to some of those funny names in the Bible, like the ones the prophets gave to their kids? Was he thinking of Joshua, the son of Nun? I wasn’t sure, and so I figured that writing this article would be like discovering a forgotten corner of my childhood. Childhood is, of course, an appropriate metaphor for thinking about humor. Those who have studied humor in the Bible suggest, for instance, that the sober attitude of grown-ups obscures the comic aspects of Christ’s rhetoric. Elton Trueblood, in The Humor of Christ, tells how his son burst out laughing at Bible reading over the idea that someone might be so concerned about seeing a speck in someone else’s eye that he failed to notice the beam in his own eye.2 The child has not yet become accustomed to all that is at first glance merely preposterous or grotesque. Trueblood – whose views we’ll focus on here – believes that Jesus is not only a Man of Sorrows, but also a Man of Joys. Jesus’s humor comes from the incongruity of his sayings (particularly in his many paradoxes) and from his sense of irony. Surely, says Trueblood, there is an aspect of comedy in the blind leading the blind, in the notion of “saving by losing,” in the thought that a camel should go through the eye of a needle, in giving Peter the nickname “Rocky.” It is frequently the contrast between the literal and the figurative moment that provides a space for laughter, or at least for a smile. When Christ asks “Do you bring in a lamp to put it under a bowl or a bed?” our trained inclination is to answer “No, because then no one can see the lamp.” A child might respond, “That would be funny, because then the bed might catch on fire.” The examples can be multiplied – at least according to Trueblood. They show Christ not merely as an ascetic and acerbic preacher – as we sometimes imagine John the Baptist – but as a man who drank wine in genial conviviality and spoke in surprising and shocking language. Whatever reservations we may have about this slightly irreverent view of the Savior, the resulting picture actually fits surprisingly well with the general Reformed worldview, which sees Christ as restoring and renewing life and culture. We all know of Luther’s hearty humor and his penchant for beer. What is humor? There are of course problems as well. If humor encompasses everything from outright jokes to fine shades of irony, then where do we draw the line? In addition, humor is fiendishly difficult to trace in written documents, for so much depends on tone and context. Take, for instance, Trueblood’s explanation of the following words of Jesus from Luke 12:58: As you are going with your adversary to the magistrate, try hard to be reconciled to him on the way, or he may drag you off to the judge, and the judge turn you over to the officer, and the officer throw you into prison. Trueblood is surely right that Jesus treats miscarriages of justice with a touch of sarcasm, but he pushes the argument too far when he tries to find the passage humorous: “What Christ seems to be advocating is a clever deal or a bribe. . . . Translated into our language, ‘It may prove to be cheaper to pay the officer than to pay the court, so why not try?’ . . . If this be humor, it is humor with an acid touch.”3 It seems more likely, though, that the adversary is not an officer of the law at all, but is rather a fellow citizen; what Jesus advocates is what we would call an “out of court settlement” – a common practice in ancient societies – and represents prudence, not humor. In the Old Testament There are two other sources of humor that require some attention. The first is, of course, the Old Testament. There are a number of places where God is said to laugh (Ps. 2:4, 37:13, 59:8; Prov. 1:26). This is the laughter of poetic justice: God laughs at the wicked. Surprisingly, the Psalms also suggest that the proper response to God’s laughing judgment should be joy: “Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy; let them sing before the Lord, for he comes to judge the earth” (Ps. 98:8-9; cf. Ps. 96). Judgment is no laughing matter, we instinctively feel. However, as the Philistines found out when they placed the ark of God in the temple of Dagon, God will have the last laugh: “When the people of Ashdod rose early the next day, there was Dagon, fallen on his face on the ground before the ark of the Lord!” (1 Sam. 5:3). The man most famed for wisdom in the Old Testament also had a wry sense of humor, something that is often missed. Consider the following ironic passages from Ecclesiastes, that book that we take such pains to explain away: The words of the Teacher, son of David, king in Jerusalem: “Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.” (1:1-2). All things are wearisome more than one can say (1:8). Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body (12:12). Who writes a book to explain that everything is meaningless? The Teacher sounds tired before he even begins. In fact, in an amusing turn of phrase, he explains that he is too weary to explain weariness. Perhaps the appropriate response when faced with such irony is laughter. There is a bad sort of biblical humor But there is also a negative type of humor. There are hints of it in the nervous laughter of Sarah. This is the laughter of those who sit in the seat of scoffers. The man who suffered most from such mockery was Jesus. All those involved in crucifying him try to turn him into a joke. And the joke is always the same: how can a crucified man be king? The soldiers dress him up in a scarlet robe and a crown of thorns before they torture him. Pilate practices his own version of the laughter of judgment by placing a placard above his head that reads: “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews” (Matthew 27:37). The joke then gets passed on to the chief priests and the teachers of the law, who focus on the final paradox of Christ’s ministry: “‘He saved others,’ they said, ‘but he can’t save himself! He’s the King of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him’” (27:42). The laughter of the cross is the laughter of Sarah magnified; it is the laughter of skepticism, and it is at heart a nervous defense against the laughter of faith and judgment. As Paul realized, the Christian faith is foolishness to the world, because doubt manifests itself through mockery and laughter. Laughter and tears, comedy and tragedy – the two poles are actually not as far removed from each other as we sometimes think. Since laughter lives on the border with terror and tragedy, it is not surprising that we also find it at the cross. True joy What does this all mean for our life of faith? An elder of mine once pointed out that one of the great gifts of the Christian religion is the joy it provides. And this joy is not simply confined to a kind of internal spiritual peace, although it is that too. The writer G. K. Chesterton suggests that, compared to the Christian, the secular man is generally happier as he approaches earth, but sadder and sadder as he approaches the heavens.4 True – but the happiness of the Christian also extends downwards – to the earth renewed in Christ. There remains one obstacle, however. Franz Kafka once said – in a comment about Christianity – that “a forced gaiety is much sadder than an openly acknowledged sorrow."5 I think this is exactly the problem we face as Christians today. How can we demonstrate the happiness that comes with the good news in a spontaneous way? Laughter is something that you shouldn’t force. So, how can you purposefully live a life of laughter and joy? I think it has to start with something further down in your heart; it has to start with faith and hope. If you start here, then laughter will inevitably come bubbling up. And this is not a nervous laughter, like the laughter of Sarah or the mocking of scoffers – this is a wholesome and healthy laughter. This is the joy of Christ. Endnotes 1 In case you haven’t heard these groaners: Bildad the Shuhite (i.e. shoe-height) & Joshua, son of Nun (i.e. none). 2 Elton Trueblood, The Humor of Christ (New York: HarperCollins, 1964). 3 Ibid., 66. 4 G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, in Basic Chesterton (Springfield, IL: Templegate, 1984), 127. 5 Quoted by John F. Maguire, “Chesterton and Kafka,” The Chesterton Review 3.1 (1976-77): 161. This article first appeared in the December 2014 issue. Conrad van Dyk is the author and narrator of the children's story podcast "Sophie and Sebastian."...