Trinity for Toddlers

A conversation overheard between Ian, our seven-year-old, and Andrew, our three-year-old (of jelly bean fame). (At right: Caleb, Andrew, Ian)

Ian: No, there's only one god.

Andrew: Oh!

Ian: Actually, there are two gods, God and Jesus.

Andrew: Yeah, God and Jesus.

Ian: Actually there are three gods: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost.

Andrew: Yeah, he's the bad guy.

Ian: No! They are all good guys. The Holy Ghost is a good guy.

Andrew: Yeah, all good guys.

Ian: Actually, there are four gods: God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, and Satan. He's the bad guy.

Andrew: Yeah, he's the bad guy.

Ian: Andrew, you know why the world isn't perfect? It's because of Satan.

Andrew: Oh.

Ian: That's why grass is so itchy, because of Satan.

Andrew: Yeah.

The picture: The Trinity, 1414, from the workshop of the Master of the Gerona Martyrology. It follows the pattern of a gnadenstuhle, or "pillar of grace," which includes a cross, the Son sitting in the Father's lap, and the Spirit as a dove (usually resting on the cross or descending towards it).

Restoring a Fisherman (John 21:15-17)

In a recent post, I pointed out that we should not read too much into the variation of Greek words (such as agape and phileo) in the account of Simon Peter's restoration in John 21:15-17. The passage is very poetic, and uses a number of synonymous words for stylistic reasons.

One of my beefs with Bible professors (and I am one of them) is that sometimes we take a perverse delight in skewering common misinterpretations of Scripture, but then we leave people with nothing. We take away meaning, rather than adding understanding. My goal, as a professor who regularly skewers bad interpretation, is to replace bad interpretation with better - and that better interpretation is (or ought to be) more attractive because it is truer and more powerful.

In John 21:15-17, there is much to learn after we remove bad interpretation. First, we find seven disciples fishing. Since fishing was not primarily for recreation, it seems that Peter is returning to his old career. Nothing wrong with fishing for a living - but Peter had been called to be a full-time disciple of the rabbi. Peter probably felt that his failure disqualified him to serve or lead.

The miraculous catch of fish in John 21 is a reminder of Peter's initial call to be a "fisher of men." (Nerd note: this version of Peter's initial call is found only in Luke 5:1-11, and not in John. But I think that we have here an example of what Johannine scholars call "interlocking," where John refers to things that the readers would only know if they were familiar with the Synoptic gospel stories, and especially Luke). The repeat of the miracle puts Peter in a state of mind to be re-summoned to service.

The miracle also contains a minor allusion to an OT prophecy about the new covenant age. Ezek 47:1-12 describes a river of healing water flowing from the Temple (compare to John 7:37-39, where the river comes from Jesus), which bring a multiplication of fish. Some ancient rabbinic sources specifically located Ezekiel's multiplication of the fish at the Sea of Tiberias (cp. John 21:1).

Jesus further prepares Peter for restoration by cooking breakfast over an anthrakia, a charcoal fire, perhaps in a metal brazier. The only other time that anthrakia occurs in the Bible is in John 18:18, where Peter denied that he knew Christ three times. This explains the repetition in John 21. Peter now has the chance to do it right. Just as three times he denied Jesus before enemies, he now can affirm his love for Jesus three times before friends.

Jesus' goal is to restore Peter to self-sacrificial service, to help him become a shepherd like Jesus (see John 1o). Part of the reason that Peter had denied Jesus was that he had wanted to die with Jesus, and followed Jesus into a place where he was unable to remain loyal. He was more concerned with his own personal loyalty to Jesus, and less concerned with shepherding his brothers.

Peter took his re-appointment to shepherding seriously. Thirty years later, he wrote this to church leaders: "Shepherd the flock of God among you, not grudgingly, but willingly, as God wants you to... be examples to the flock. Then when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive a glorious and unfading crown." (1 Pet 5:2-4)

Happy Birthday, Bagginses!

Aur Onnad Meren, elendili o periannath! (Happy Birthday, Elf-friends among Hobbits!). Bilbo and his cousin Frodo (or, as Hobbits are fond of pointing out, "his first and second cousin, once removed either way, as the saying is, if you follow me") share a birthday on September 22. Bilbo was born in 2890 of the Third Age of Middle-earth (Shire-reckoning, 1290). His better-known cousin, Frodo, was born in 2968 TA (1368 SR).

The epic Lord of the Rings begins with the preparations for Bilbo and Frodo's birthday: "When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton." Frodo was also turning thirty-three, the coming of age for Hobbits. Fans of LOTR will remember that Frodo's involvement in the Tale of the Ring begin with Bilbo's astonishing disappearance at the end of his birthday speech, one of my favorite scenes in LOTR. "I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like half of you half as well as you deserve" - just one of many memorable lines from the slightly tipsy Bilbo.

If you have only watched the movies, you don't know that after the great birthday party, Frodo settled down as the master of Bag End for the next seventeen years before the events of the War of the Rings began to unfold. Frodo continued to hold dual birthday parties, although Bilbo was long gone, and there were several rowdy parties where it "rained drink and snowed food", as Hobbits say.

Frodo left Hobbiton on his fiftieth birthday (TA 3018), and handed Bag End over to his grasping relations, the Sackville-Bagginses. Although he knew that Sauron was now looking for the Ring, he did not know that the Nazgul were already inside the Shire, and that Gandalf was busy escaping from Saruman and trying to get a horse to come to the Hobbits' aid.

By Frodo's next birthday, Sauron was defeated. Frodo and the other hobbits were on their return trip. They arrived in Rivendell in time to celebrate Frodo's 51st and Bilbo's 129th birthday. They did not know that this was the day that Saruman had entered the Shire, intending to wreak his vengeance on the homeland of the Hobbits.

The last birthday recorded is in 3021, the last year of the Third Age. Frodo and Bilbo, 54 and 132, are granted permission to sail with the Elves over the Sea as a reward for their great sacrifice and to give them a place to heal.

One of the great bitter ironies of the Lord of the Rings shows up in this account of the birthdays. The first birthday shows us what is worth saving from Sauron - the beautiful, pastoral, and defenseless Shire, and the absurd but innocent Hobbits and their customs. On his thirty-third birthday, Frodo has great hopes of becoming the heir of Bilbo and living out life as one of the Shire's landed gentry. But on each noted birthday, he must give up something of great value - perhaps related to the Hobbit custom of giving gifts to others on one's birthday? His beloved uncle Bilbo leaves on his 33rdbirthday. Frodo gives up his lovely hobbit-hole on his 50th. Saruman despoils the Shire on his 51st. And Frodo must leave his beloved Shire forever on his 54th. Frodo's great sacrifice, the burden of the Ring and his wounds are ultimately unhealable on this side of the Great Sea.

By the way, yesterday was another important Tolkien day. The Hobbit was published on Sept 21, 1937, with the subtitle There and Back Again. The picture: Alan Lee's portrait of Gandalf and Frodo in Bag End, as Gandalf reveals the history of the Ring.

Do You Love Me (Now that I can Dance) (John 21:15-17)

In my last post, I explained that, contrary to popular Christian belief, the Bible does not use the Greek words agape and phileo in significantly different ways. Agape (and its verb form, agapao; I use agape throughout since most Christians are more familiar with it) is a fairly generic word for love, and does not necessarily imply divine, unconditional, or higher love. Phileo, although used less often in the Bible, is not a lower type of love, as revealed by the times it is used to describe love between Father, Son and disciples (see, for example, John 5:20, 16:27, 20:2).

So what is happening in John 21:15-17? Here's the conversation between Jesus and Peter after the Resurrection:

Jesus: Simon, son of John, do you love (agape) me more than these?

Peter: Yes, Lord, you know (oida) that I love (phileo) you.

Jesus: Feed my lambs... Simon, son of John, do you love (agape) me?

Peter: Yes, Lord, you know (oida) that I love (phileo) you.

Jesus: Shepherd my sheep... Simon, son of John, do you love (phileo) me?

Peter (grieved because Jesus had said "Do you love (phileo) me?" three times): Lord, you know (oida) all things, you know (ginosko) that I love (phileo) you.

Jesus: Feed my sheep.

After reading it carefully, you can see that the usual pulpit interpretation doesn't work. Peter isn't grieved because Jesus switched verbs; he is grieved because Jesus keeps asking him. In fact, Peter is "grieved because Jesus had said 'Do you love (phileo) me?' three times." But Jesus, in fact, had used agape twice and phileo once - another piece of evidence that the two words mean basically the same thing. Note also that Peter did not answer, "No, I don't love (agape) you, but I do love (phileo) you." Instead, he said "Yes, I love you," indicating agreement with Jesus. Finally, if the standard pulpit interpretation is correct, Jesus caves in at the end and says that a lesser form of love towards him is just fine - not the sort of thing you are likely to find anywhere in the New Testament, and especially not in John.

So what is going on? In one of the most poetic passages in his gospel, John varies words for style. Within John 21, notice the amount of synonyms or near-synonyms used: Know: oida, ginosko. Sheep: arnion, probaton. Tend: bosko, poimaino. Fish: ichthus, opsarion, prosphagion. Boat: ploion, ploiarion. Shore: aigialos, ge. Some of these words can have slightly differently meanings in other contexts, but don't have different meanings in this passage. The same fish are called all three words, and the same boat is called two different words. The variation in words, including the words for love, adds to the beauty of the description.

By the way, the view presented here, that the alternation between agape and phileo in John 21:15-17 is only for stylistic variation, is not some strange view that can only be found in this corner of the blogosphere. It is the standard view held by most ancient and modern commentaries on John. (The exceptions are primarily some nineteenth-century commentaries and, strangely, the NIV).

I don't intend to only take away your favorite (mis)interpretation! Next post: once we get over the agape/phileo bit, what can we learn from this passage?

The picture: Follow Me, from Das Plenarium oder Ewangely Buoch, 1516, courtesy of the Digital Image Archive, Pitts Theology Library, Candler School of Theology, Emory University. The picture is composite, containing elements from the tomb in John 20 and the beach appearance in John 21.

Make Me a Higher Love? (agape/phileo)

Here's a question posted last week: "In John 21:15-17 Jesus asks three times if Simon Peter loves him. The first two times Jesus uses agapao for love and in both Simon Peter's replies phileo is used. Then the third time Jesus asks he uses phileo as well and so does Simon Peter. Is there any significance to this?"

A few weeks ago, my son's soccer coach advised the boys to put on jackets so that they wouldn't catch cold after practice. He believed that you could catch a cold if you got chilly after exercise. This belief was once so widespread that people just knew it to be true, even though doctors and scientists agree that colds are caused by viruses, not chill. OK, I know that rhinoviruses thrive better in cold, dry air, but you get my point - sometimes something that everyone knows is untrue.

I mention this story because many Christians in America just know that agape is a Greek word that refers to divine, unconditional love, a higher love than any other. But as a matter of fact, agape does not have this special meaning in Greek, and is only slightly different in meaning from phileo. Agape means "love," and it has about the same range of meaning as the English word "love." It can refer to loving people, food, God, money, or anything else. It can refer to selfless love or selfish love, depending on the context. Surprisingly, Greek scholars and New Testament scholars widely agree on this conclusion, but most other Christians, including many pastors, are unaware of it. I am not aware of any living Greek scholar who accepts the view of agape that is widely proclaimed from the pulpit. (By the way, agapao is the verb form of agape, and phileo is the verb form of philia; I use them interchangeably in this post).

Here's some of the evidence:

1) Philosophers in ancient Greece could not agree on the precise difference between agape and philia, and could not agree on which one was higher. Most philosophers actually asserted that philia was a higher love, because of the high value that philosophers placed on friendship.

2) The translators of the LXX (an ancient Greek translation of the Old Testament) regularly used agapao to translate the Hebrew word ahav, which is also a very generic word for love in Hebrew.

3) While agape is often used to describe positive forms of love, it is also used to describe defective forms of love (Luke 6:32, John 3:19, Deut 21:15 LXX), the love of money (2 Pet 2:15, Isa 1:23 LXX), the love of sin (Rev 22:15, Jer 14:10, Hos 12:7 LXX), the love for honor (Luke 11:43, John 12:43), legitimate sexual desire (Song of Solomon 1:3, 4, 7, 3:1-4 LXX) and even lust (Gen 34:2-3, Jdg 16:4, 2 Sam 13:3-15 LXX). In other words, agape is like the English word love - it can have a positive or negative meaning depending on its context.

4) Although there are some slight differences in usage between agapao and phileo, they are used interchangeably at times in the Bible. Take a look at Luke 11:43/20:46; John 3:35/5:20; John 11:3/11:5/11:36; John 14:21/14:23/16:27; and Heb 12:6/Rev 3:19. In each of these cases, almost identical sentences use phileo or agapao with no apparent difference in meaning. In some cases, phileo is used for very high forms of love, such as the love between the Father and the Son.

For some people, this information is bad news. They like the idea that the Bible has a special word that means divine, unconditional love, and it disturbs them that the evidence does not support this view. But here's the good news: although Greek and Hebrew words for love do not have this special nuance, God's love is divine, giving and unconditional, no matter which word we use to communicate it. It's not the word for love that matters, but the many sentences, paragraphs, and stories about God's love that matter. Ideas don't have to be found in single words to be valid - in fact, most ideas require multiple words to be communicated.

Next post: if agapao and phileo mean almost the same thing, what was John trying to say at the breakfast scene in John 21:15-17?

The picture: The Miraculous Draught of Fish, by Konrad Witz, 1443.

Random Smatterings - Nimrod

We have a small group Bible study that meets in our home under the name "Wananada Wednesdays." We have been studying the book of Genesis during this season. Although I think we have generally been focusing on matters of greater import, this week a question about "Nimrod, the mighty hunter before the Lord" in Genesis 10 came up. Why is Nimrod a heroic figure in Genesis, but a term of derision in modern English slang?

Turns out that etymology experts are uncertain. The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) notes that hunters have sometimes been called nimrods as an allusion to the biblical hunter, and sometimes incompetent hunters have facetiously been called "nimrod," starting with a literary reference in 1933.

It may be Bugs Bunny that popularized this ironic use of "nimrod" (although the OED doesn't mention it). Bugs was known to occasionally call Elmer "poor little nimrod." The biblically illiterate audience was probably unaware of the allusion and picked it up as an insult for an incompetent person.

The pictures: above, Sargon I of Assyria, whom some identify with Nimrod; below, Elmer Fudd of Warner Brothers, whom Bugs Bunny identifies as "nimrod."

American Revolutionary War - more

Keoki asked a question concerning my earlier post on the American Revolutionary War.

Suppose for a moment that the American Revolution was an unjust war. [Since]... Americans fought it anyway and won it, what does that say about the legitimacy of America’s sovereignty in the eyes of God?

In addition to the stipulations of just war (which are not exclusively Christian), we should also reflect on this question in light of the biblical prohibition against taking up arms against legitimate government.

Almost all nations have skeletons in their closets. If the practice of unjust wars invalidates a nation's sovereignty, then all nations have lost their sovereignty, except maybe Iceland. When Paul wrote Romans 13:1-7, he was referring to the Roman Empire, much of which had been founded on wars of aggression. However, this did not invalidate Rome's authority, according to Paul - he argued that we should submit to existing authorities. And of course, America has had other wars that are of much greater concern. The Indian Wars, the Mexican-American War, and the Spanish-American War were far more unjust than the Revolutionary War. If we use the 1-100 "just war scale" I mentioned in the first post, then I give the Revolutionary War about 60 or 70, the Indian Wars about 10, and the Mexican and Spanish Wars about 20 or 30.

If you have the (mistaken, in my mind) belief that America was somehow founded by God as a chosen nation, then analyzing the Revolutionary War by just war or biblical criteria will certainly shake that belief.

We need to avoid what philosophers call the genetic fallacy - the false idea that origins determine everything. If, as some Christians claim, America was properly and justly founded as a Christian nation, that does not say anything - positive or negative - about the country's later actions. If, as I am suggesting, the founding war of America was less than fully just and biblically questionable, then that also says little about the later actions of the country. America has demonstrated that it is capable of both just and unjust wars, regardless of the status of its founding war.

Maybe I am biased as an American, but I think that America has been more just in many of its wars (in both causes and in practices) than many other nations. The Indian Wars seem to be the most notable exception (we haven't talked about Iraq yet - that will be the next and hopefully last just war post).

Just Actions in War

Just war theory not only stipulates just reasons for going to war, but also just actions within war (jus in bello). The guiding principle is that war is not a good thing, even if the cause is just or the war is necessary. Since war is not a good thing, it is vital to have guidelines to restrain the evil effects of war.

The idea of restraint in war is very ancient. The Old Testament gives guidelines for accepting surrender, for the treatment of captives, and for restraining the destructiveness of war (see Deut 20:1-20, 21:10-14). In times even less civilized than today, many countries had the practice of only allowing a conquering army to loot a city for three days to control the amount of damage done to civilians.

Just war theory has two main guiding principles for just practices in war. The first is obvious: war must be waged against soldiers, not civilians. Civilians must never be targeted. Armies must take great pains to avoid accidentally harming civilians, especially because of the use of explosives. While clear enough, several factors can complicate this criteria. When a country completely mobilizes for war, the civilians end up being a crucial part of the war effort. For example, ordinary factory workers end up being an essential part of producing tanks, airplanes, and supplies. This was the reason why British and American forces intentionally targeted civilian neighborhoods around German factories in WWII. While the Allies had just reasons for going to war, the practice of killing hundreds of thousands of German civilians - men, women and children - to stop the German war effort was certainly not in accordance with just war theory.

The second principle is restraint. During war, armies must use the appropriate amount of force to achieve the desired goals in the war. For example, during the Persian Gulf War in 1991, American forces used enough force to cause the Iraqi army to retreat or surrender. It would have been possible to annihilate the entire army, but that would have been more violent than necessary to achieve the goal of the war. In WWII, the Allies decided that they needed to go further than defeating Axis armies - they needed a complete defeat of the government of Germany. This was likely in accordance with just war principles, because the Nazi government had demonstrated that it was completely incapable of keeping a treaty, and was of course guilty of crimes against humanity.

Why do countries otherwise committed to just war principles occasionally violate them? In any war, some soldiers will violate just war principles and attack civilians. In some cases, enemy soldiers use population centers as shields or use civilians as combatants, making soldiers get trigger happy. In the case of WWII, the Allies decided to target German civilian populations partially in retaliation for Germany's bombing of civilians in London. More importantly, the Allies violated just war principles because they saw what happened to the captive countries of Germany (especially Poland) and decided that they must win, no matter what the cost.

This is one of the reminders of the just war principle that war should always be a last resort. Once in war, nations are often faced with horrible moral dilemmas and may have difficulty staying faithful to other just war guidelines.

Just War - the American Revolution

In honor of Independence Day, I want to continue the Just War series, but in a slightly different direction. Based on just war theory, what should we say about the American Revolutionary War? Just war theory suggests that America's revolt against England falls short of a fully just war, but was not totally unjust either.

If you look at my last post on this topic, you can see that one of the criteria for just war is that it must be authorized by legitimate government leaders. By definition, a revolt is lacking legitimate government authority. However, the rebels tried to create legitimacy by appointing a continental congress.

The Revolutionary War also fell short of being fully just in that it is difficult to see it as an appropriate and restrained response to aggression. War is most just when it responds to unprovoked aggression. War in response to unjust taxation or in order to institute a type of government you like better is certainly an overreaction (otherwise most Americans should go to war against their government now!). Of course, the Revolutionary War was a bit more complicated than that - Parliament refused to listen to legitimate requests of the colonies, the colonists had some violent protests, British troops were deployed, and Parliament took punitive economic measures against the colonies.

(By the way, it is a common misconception that the Revolution was a response to religious persecution by England. This was not the case - the British colonial governments tolerated all Protestant denominations. Catholics were not tolerated - but the Revolution was not fought to give rights to Catholics!)

With the other just war criteria, one can make a greater case that the colonies had just causes - war was a last resort, and its goals were limited to reversing the wrongs suffered. At the beginning, it was not so clear that they had a reasonable chance of success, but obviously they succeeded.

For Christians, Romans 13:1-7 provides another reason for caution when evaluating the Revolutionary War. Paul wrote that Christians may not rebel against the government. He didn't say that Christians should obey unjust laws, but he did not allow armed revolt.

This is one of the main reason why so many Americans were Tories (British sympathizers). They were not necessarily traitors; they believed that it was morally and biblically wrong to rebel against their rightful government. James Bradley, a professor of church history at Fuller Theological Seminary, told me that most Anglican (Episcopalian) churches preached regularly from Romans 13 during the Revolutionary War, and most Congregational churches preached from passages like Isaiah 61 that talk about liberty. In this case, I think the Anglican Tories were doing a much better job interpreting the Scriptures than the Congregationalist Rebels.

If we were to use a "just war score" with 0 being unprovoked aggression and 100 being response to unprovoked aggression (following all just war criteria), then I think that the American Revolutionary War should probably have a score of about 60 or 70 at the highest. If we use the criteria of Romans 13, then quite likely Christians should not have joined in the Revolutionary War.

Caleb the Vegetarian

Me: Caleb, what do you want to be when you grow up?

Caleb: a vegetarian.

Me: Oh?

Caleb: Yes, I want to take care of animals. Are there possums?

Me: Yes, possums are real.

Caleb: Are there possums in Hawaii?

Me: No, but they are on the Mainland.

Caleb: How about Africa?

Me: I'm not sure. We can look it up. Do you want to be a zoo veterinarian?

Caleb: No, just a regular animal vegetarian. I will take care of baby animals and then sell them back to their mommies.

Me: Actually, it's called a veterinarian.

Caleb: Oh, a vegetinarian.