Singing a world

Walter Brueggemann, A Glad Obedience: Why and What We Sing. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2019.

The Psalms are a perennial favorite—even among those who don’t read the Bible. However, one must admit that some are more of a favorite than others. Many struggle with the implications of the final lines of 137, for example. Of course, many more of the collection offer hope and comfort, which accounts for their popularity. And the collection doesn’t hide from reality, thus the humanity of all befits what most regard as a hymnal for the Temple in Jerusalem.

In one of his typical short but thought-filled topical books, Walter Brueggemann offers insights into the lasting value of the Psalter. He is not unlike a classical prophet, addressing the people of his day to offer comfort, strength, and prods to improvement. His approach deconstructs social attitudes from a perspective that stands outside of political boundaries. In this book, he writes that singing is a way of celebrating our humanness as a gift of God (xvi). Further, anthropologically, we are engaged in “world construction” when we sing hymns, because the world that we sing about is rooted in yet very different from the one that  regularly stands before us (1).

As I write this, two trends are prominent in the news. First, a pandemic has closed most of our churches to public worship, and thus removed singing together from many lives (although there are some well-done technological solutions). So it seems appropriate to think about what singing in worship means to us. Second, we are becoming forcefully aware, often in a disturbing manner, of many levels and forms of discrimination in modern society—as well as how their persistence is abetted by often-unrecognized social structures.

As I wrote this, I remembered classes I’ve taken and taught that deal with music in worship, studies that contain significant portions about African-American communities. There is a sense of these roots, whether singing Psalms, the unique slave songs, or modern expressions, of the promise of a very different world. We come to understand, through music, that among these ancient songs are also protest songs, and that in protest there is hope. (Anyone wishing to learn more about the role of music in the Black church and it social role should look into Eileen Southern, The Music of Black Americans). These factors are all a good indicator that, as Brueggemann writes, we sing because life is given by, sustained by, and claimed by God. We sing because we refuse to have our lives be any less—or more—than that (2).

Singing is an act of resistance—whether protest songs, laments, spirituals, prayers, or others. The Psalter, whose Hebrew title םילהת means “praises,” includes all of these forms. The Psalms are also a gift. And they are a reminder, as we sing or recite them, that the impulse to value everything according to its monetary value, to make all of life a commodity to be bought, sold, or traded, is not new, and constant vigilance is required to affirm life first (14).

With these thoughts, Brueggemann moves through selections of the Psalter, where he finds many, diverse voices. This diversity is also why the Psalms endure through time and cultures. The constant is the divine pledge of דסֶחֶ (hesed, steadfast love), and this is a pledge of solidarity and fidelity to Creation (177).

And this leads to disability, especially the implications for social and medical models. Lives of disabled people are often compromised by judging them according to various notions of economic value, such as the ability to produce inside a discriminatory system, or the costs of care. This kind of thinking reached a peak in Nazi Germany with the Aktion T-4 program of mass murder. Today, while no one openly advocates such actions, disabled people join with other groups as assistance programs are routinely threatened with less-than-subsistence funds, insufficient health care, and restricted access in the name of economics. Filicide of disabled children often receives little or no attention or punishment. Correcting accessibility violations requires private lawsuits, and nearly 30 years after a law requiring access was passed, still brings opposition. Rather than accept diversity, solutions are often equally unrealistic and demeaning: (involuntarily) submit to prayer for healing, or some medical approaches that treat people as if they were machines, requiring enduring “a series of technological fixes” (195). We don’t need labels like “special needs,” we need the same acceptance that others expect and whether realizing it or not, regard as their privilege.

Cover and back pages of the program book for presentation at First UCC, Xenia.
Computer technology has advanced since then.

I would like to thank William Crowder for working with me on a project, The Psalms of Praise, which we presented at his then-pastoral charge, First United Christian Church of Xenia OH, which provided an unparalleled opportunity to first gather my thoughts and reflections on the Psalms.

I borrowed this book from the Indianapolis Public Library, promising in return to return it within three weeks. I have fulfilled that promise.

Traveling with an atlas

Mark V. Hoffman and Robert A. Mullins, Atlas of the Biblical World. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2019.

It was in second grade, I think, that everyone in my class received a state map. We didn’t do much with it, but it was a fold-up wonder that opened a new world. Looking at it, I saw where we lived, places nearby that we sometimes traveled to, and places further off that sounded fascinating. Thus began an interest that developed as I pursued historical studies—learning how geography has had an integral role in shaping events, and growing in understanding how others live.

As I moved into a major of religious history, it seems natural to say that Bible atlases were along for the journey. More so than for many other books, one is needed here—its events take place in a generally unfamiliar land, there are often varying accounts of an event, as well as different names than other sources use, and other problems that challenge a reader. Bible publishers have responded with maps bound in with the text, but they are often dated and require flipping pages, so a stand-alone version that can sit next to one is a useful resource. Mine received a lot of use; I suspect I’m not alone in wearing out copies of the Oxford Bible Atlas just in time to buy a new edition.

While the Oxford atlas remains a good choice, this recent offering from Fortress provides worthy competition. In general, each page has a section outlining the text references, books or chapters and background on one leaf. Opposite that is a map illustrating the geography and movements involved. There are five sections that flow chronologically: Beginnings, The People of Israel in Canaan, A People Divided, Invasion and Occupation, and Jesus and the Emergence of Christianity.

I mention this organization to remember one of my seminary professors who remarked of one paper that simply being aware that the book of Jeremiah is not in chronological order is useful. The Hebrew Bible is organized by themes – Torah, Prophets, and Writings. While the role and places of the prophets are often missing here (which I see as the book’s greatest lack), the whole does a good job of helping make the storyline of the Hebrew Bible clear.

The Christian scriptures start with five books that are only vaguely in chronological order (like the Hebrew records, a trait that often frustrates modern western readers), and often alludes to events that are obscure. It then pries into someone else’s mail, often conjoining the letters and obscuring the background of events. Here the layout and background are again useful.

Overall this approach is helpful as the authors relate the biblical stories to other historical events, thus removing some of the “bubble.” It’s easy to forget about the wider world, one that is only tangentially mentioned most of the time. Another helpful feature is reference to archaeological findings and what they tell us about the story. Archaeology doesn’t “prove” the Bible, but it does tell us a lot about the background of the stories, and thus help us understand it. The section “Invasion and Occupation,” dealing mostly with the inter-testamental period (when much of the Apocrypha were composed) is particularly good in helping to understand the political movements which led to the tensions, situations, and parties of the Gospels.

In summary, then, this a very effective tool for understanding. It’s not the most comprehensive, but that isn’t the goal. It’s factual, which means that some of the popular legends aren’t included, but that’s fine with me. Mark Twain wrote in the conclusion of his rollicking book The Innocents Abroad that “travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” It also is fatal to fakery (something Twain remarks on a lot in that book!) and expands horizons and knowledge. You may well find me online, looking at Google maps (especially with the new accessibility features, but stretching our boundaries also includes a good book of this sort.

The Devil of Details

One of the most challenging aspects of teaching history comes when students are half-listening (if they're listening at all) until a phrase passes their ears that produces a knee-jerk reaction. "Socialism" is one of these words. 

Some perspective on this term comes from the ostensible topic here, a book by Kenneth Barnes, Redeeming Capitalism (Eerdmans, 2018). Barnes outlines the history of economic systems, surveys both good and bad effects and developments, and suggests some theologically-based corrections to the way things are today (most of these center on restraining rampant greed). 

Along the way, he notes: "Since the end of World War II, and the beginning of the Cold War, one word above all others has been anathema to US politicians, socialism. Among the many reasons for this, perhaps the two most obvious are a general confusion about what socialism actually is and a widely-held conviction that socialist experiments in Europe and elsewhere have not been successful. Confusion over what socialism actually is may be traced to deliberate and, some might say, cynical attempts by its opponents to convolute Democratic socialism with it totalitarian Marxism" (83).

With the costs of being disabled, economic systems are always in the mind of people with disabilities. Hearing someone opine that wheelchairs are only around $300 (reality check: my last one came to $21,000, and we had to pay about $4000) should prove that. But economics, and Barnes, are also about what we value. Jesus of Nazareth stated that trying to serve both God and wealth would lead to cognitive dissonance (Matthew 6.24). The medieval theologian Thomas Aquinas argued that those who would raise the price of an item because of its advantage to the recipient commit a sin of deceit (Summa Theologiae 2b.77.1,4). The Archbishop of Canterbury, announcing that John Swinton's Dementia: Living in the Memories of God was awarded the 2016 Michael Ramsey Prize, stated that the failure to value people as something other than economic units was "one of the most profound failures of our society." 

A recently-concluded round of campaign commercials and reading this article from History News Network brought Barnes, my wheels, Aquinas, and Swinton together for me. 

It also reminded me of repeated efforts to get students to pay attention to that place where the devil lives--details. Or could we say, it's a reminder of the need for understanding history and practicing careful discernment (a.k.a. critical reading) of what we read. In this case, "socialist" has a variety of meanings and distinctions. It also originated in a particular historical setting, and, as is usual in everything from religion to politics, not all who claim the label or oppose it are using it accurately.

Being able to sort this out is one of the purposes of education (especially if you wish to distinguish "education" from "training," which I'll probably get into sometime). Before we proceed, I'll add that another purpose of education is learning to express what you've found in a clear manner. When I was in grad school, one day one of my advisors and I had a great conversation about students who responded "that's not what I meant" about their papers. It may be (and we can often figure that out) but it is what you told us!

I've seen a lot of memes lately that mention "socialism" but clearly don't have any idea what it's about.This is why I dislike the memes that are so prevalent on Facebook. Beyond their general inaccuracy and one-sidedness, they don't invite discussion, their purpose seems to be reinforcing one's pre-existing notions without thinking. But then, thinking is what killed Socrates.

Disclaimer: I borrowed this book from the Indianapolis Public Library and promised to return it within three weeks. I fulfilled that promise.