Paul's Name Change

This is a follow up post from Monday's post on Paul's supposed conversion.  I want to briefly discuss the change of name from Saul to Paul that we see in the book of Acts.

Now, it is a popular opinion that Saul, the Pharisee and persecutor of Christians changed his name to Paul at the time of, and because of his dramatic conversion.  This popular opinion is confirmed by my students and by a quick google search.  The idea is that when Paul saw the light and left his wicked Judaism for the truth of Christianity (his conversion), he had to symbolize this dramatic conversion with a name change. Here is a somewhat typical expression of this view from a website called BibleHub: 

"Jesus Christ gave the Apostle whom He called to Himself in the early days, a new name, in order to prophesy the change which, by the discipline of sorrow and the communication of the grace of God, should pass over Simon Barjona, making him into a Peter, a 'Man of Rock.' With characteristic independence, Saul chooses for himself a new name, which shall express the change that he feels has passed over his inmost being. True, he does not assume it at his conversion, but that is no reason why we should not believe that he assumes it because he is beginning to understand what it is that has happened to him at his conversion."

Here the author connects the concept of Paul's name change with the name change of Peter which was given by Jesus in Matthew 16.

Now, I already questioned in my previous post the fitness of the word conversion for what happened to Paul, as if Paul were converting from one religion (Judaism) to another (Christianity).  Now, I am not denying that Paul underwent a radical change.  He did, and he says as much in his letters.  Yet, I do not think that in any way Paul would say he left Judaism behind to follow a different religion.

Moreover, if the name change was linked to Paul's experience (conversion) on the Damascus road, as in Acts 9, the author of Acts certainly does not make this connection clear.  Saul is called Saul 24 times in the book of Acts. Saul's supposed conversion takes place in Acts 9, and the conversion is complete by Acts 9:19.  Of the 24 times Saul is called Saul in Acts, 10 of those take place either before, or during Saul's supposed conversion in chapter 9 (7:58, 8:1, 8:3, 9:1, 9:4(twice), 9:11, and 9:17 (twice)). Another five times he is called Saul occur in Paul's retelling of that event in Chapters 22 and 26 (22:7(twice), 22:13, and 26:14(twice)).  Interestingly, the other nine times that Paul is called Saul in the book of Acts occur after this supposed conversion and over a span of five chapters in the book (9:22, 9:24, 11:25, 11:30, 12:25, 13:1(twice), 13:7, and 13:9).  In each case, Saul is engaged in one way or another in his ministry as a follower of Jesus.   So, if the author of Acts meant to communicate that the change of name from Saul to Paul was a result of and emblematic of his dramatic conversion from Judaism to Christianity, he failed miserably.  Saul continues under the name Saul to minister as a follower of Jesus for quite some time before the name is changed to Paul. The change of name takes place in Chapter 13 without much warning or comment.  Acts 13 narrates what is commonly called Paul's first missionary journey which he undertakes with Barnabus.  In 13:1 he is called Saul and is commissioned along with Barnabus to go abroad with the message of Jesus. On the Island of Crete, Saul and Barnabus minister in 13:7.  In 13:9, we get the following phrase: "But Saul, also known as Paul, filled with the Holy Spirit, looked intently at him." Finally, the change is complete at 13:13 and the name Paul is used for the rest of the book except in Paul's recounting of his experience from Acts 9 in chapters 22 and 26.

So, what can we make of this name change?  Was it a change prompted by Saul's dramatic conversion to Christianity?  First let me say, we cannot know for sure why Saul changed his name to Paul.  In his letters, Paul only calls himself Paul and never mentions Saul.  Acts gives no explanatory comment about the name change.  But, I think that the evidence does not lead to the idea that Saul's name change was based on a supposed conversion.  I think the answer is much more practical and mundane.  The name change occurs in Acts during Saul's first missionary interactions with Gentiles. Gentiles would have been familiar with the name Paul (a common Roman name), but Saul, a Jewish name, would have been unfamiliar, and would probably have sounded odd and foreign.  I am of the opinion that the name change was a merely practical decision on the part of Paul so that he could more effectively minister to Gentiles.  It would be more akin to someone of Hispanic heritage named Alejandro, adopting the anglicized name Alex upon moving to America. It is even possible that Saul/Paul had always had both names since he was a Jew born and raised in a Gentile city of Tarsus and was possibly even a Roman Citizen. Either way, I do not think that the evidence leads to the conclusion that this name change was due to a dramatic religious conversion.  What do you think?

The Conversion of Paul?

I have been reading E. P. Sanders new massive tome on Paul and have been thoroughly enjoying the read. As always, Sanders' treats his subject matter with excellent clarity.  Reading Sanders' prose is pure joy.  In the volume he weighs in on the debate concerning whether or not to call what happened to Paul a "conversion" or not.

Here is a little of what Sanders has to say:

"The debate over whether or not Paul 'converted' is actually a debate about the meaning of the word conversion.  If it means 'turn from the worship of one god to the worship of another,' then Paul did not convert. If it means 'turn from one set of religious practices to another set,' then one could argue that Paul partially converted, since... he sometimes gave up some Jewish practices... 

"But, if by 'conversion' we mean not 'turn from,' but only 'turn to,' then we may say that Paul converted. He turned to a new revelation from the God of Israel, a revelation that transformed the old in a fairly radical way... My own inclination is to use 'convert' in the third way--turn to--and consequently to speak of Paul's conversion, but I would not wish to fight to death over this usage." (E. P. Sanders, Paul: The Apostle's Life, Letters, and Thought, (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015), 101-102.)

Now, I do not substantively disagree with anything Sanders says here.  But, I still find the language of conversion problematic. If one defines conversion as Sanders does in his third definition, then of course Paul converted.  Yet, the only problem is that this is not how most people, IMO, conceptualize the word conversion. I teach undergraduates as a full time job, and I understand that redefining words is not always successful. You need to work really hard to redefine words and concepts that are already embedded in a student's mind. I think that the common "street" definition of the word "conversion" is much more along the lines of the following definition from dictionary.com: "change from one religion, political belief, viewpoint, etc., to another."  Specifically, within the context of Paul, I think many would take the word conversion to mean that Paul converted from one religion, Judaism, to another different religion, Christianity.  Now, I do not think that you would find a single New Testament scholar that would agree with the preceding statement. Paul did not see himself as leaving Judaism. He had a "revelation" (Paul's word, apocalypsai, Gal 1:16), and that revelation dramatically transformed his understanding of the the God of Israel, nevertheless, it did not represent a conversion from one religion to another.

The problem, of course, is that today, Judaism and Christianity are legitimately two distinct religions. But this was not so in the first century.  At their earliest stages, Christianity and Pharisaism (later Rabbinic Judaism) were competing forms of Judaism. So, to use the word conversion in the context of Paul is to confuse the issue, because to most people, they will hear this as a conversion from one religion to another, and that is not at all what was going on. Using the language of conversion for Paul perpetuates the worst in historical Christianity, the supersessionism and antisemitism, which is responsible for some of the worst injustices carried out in the name of God.  Can we find a better word for what happened to Paul?  One that will not carry on age old misunderstandings that have plagued Jewish and Christian relations for nearly 2000 years?

In my lectures on Paul, I have used the phrase, "change of heart," for what happened to Paul.  Yet, even so, I am not sure that that phrase really captures what is going on with Paul.  Does anyone have any other suggestions or ways that they have spoken about Paul's experience?

Guns!

(I began this post over a month ago, in the wake of the San Bernardino shootings.  The holidays intervened, so here we go again).

Guns!  This is a topic that is in the news right now.  Everyone has an opinion.  Why not me?  Well, I'm sure I do have an opinion, but I am not sure I have worked it all out yet.  So, I am going to work my opinion out here on this blog.  This is an area where my thoughts have changed over the past 5-10 years, but I have never worked out a clear opinion before, so I am going to give it a shot here.

First of all, I have worked out my opinion (I think) on the 2nd Amendment, so you can go read that here.  To sum that up, I think that the second amendment is obsolete and should probably be repealed.

With that out of the way, back to the idea of guns in general.  Now, I am a big proponent of the idea that no technology is in itself evil.  As someone who teaches ethics, I believe that inanimate objects do not carry moral responsibilities.  Only humans can make moral choices.  So, it is not that any technology, in itself, is evil in any way, but rather the way it is used by moral agents, i.e., humans.  See image to the right.

Guns are a piece of technology.  They solve a technological problem.  Namely, guns give humans the ability to hurl small pieces of metal (bullets) at great speeds over great distances. Now, there could be many purposes for hurling bullets over great distances at great speeds.  Maybe I want to put holes in a sheet of plywood from 250 feet away.  A gun would do the trick.  Yet I cannot imagine that this would be a good technological solution to putting holes in plywood.  Surely a much cheaper piece of technology, say a drill, could do the same thing, and much more accurately, yet not at a great distance.  Clearly, the purpose of hurling bullets is to inflict damage on something.  Almost exclusively, guns are used to disable moving objects at distances.  Now, these objects most commonly are animals, whether they be of the human variety or otherwise.

Let me say at this point, that what I will be discussing below is the ownership of guns by private citizens.  I am not yet ready to tackle the questions of  government agents, law enforcement, or war. What I will be discussing below is simply gun ownership by private citizens for private use. Let me also get the hunting issue out of the way.  I have at this point no problem with responsible and legal hunting either for food or sport.  I am not a hunter, but I have hunted and married into a hunting family.

Now, I am not a gun expert, but I think I can classify three big categories of guns to be discussed here: 1) Rifles, 2) Handguns, and 3) Shotguns.  There are two types of guns from this list that are useful for hunting: rifles and shotguns.  I have hunted deer, and you use a rifle.  I have hunted dove and you use a shotgun.  I have no problems with these weapons when used for hunting purposes.  But interestingly, neither of these weapons are the weapon of choice for mass shooters, and for an obvious reason: they don't carry enough bullets to effectively kill multiple people.  A deer hunting rifle carries one bullet.  And that is enough.  Anyone who has hunted a deer before knows that you just get one shot.  If you miss, you don't get a second chance.  A typical dove hunting shotgun carries two-four rounds.  Once again, not tremendously useful in a mass shooting.

Now to the guns that give me pause for a moment:  semi-automatic handguns and assault style rifles.

Both of these types of weapons carry multiple round magazines.  What gives me pause here is the following question: what useful purpose do these weapons carry for your average citizen?  Once again, I am not talking about government agents, law enforcement, or the military here.  These multiple round weapons obviously have a possibly legitimate purpose in the realm of law enforcement and war.  But, for your average citizen, what legitimate purpose can these guns have? Simply by virtue of the form of these weapons, they have but one design: kill lots of people quickly. No one hunts with a semi-automatic handgun, they are not accurate enough at distance and there is no need for so many bullets.  The handgun has the added lethality of being able to be concealed until a perpetrator is close to his or her victims. Assault style rifles are also of no use in hunting.  Once again, multiple bullets are a redundancy. In sum total, I see no legitimate need for private citizens to own guns that carry multiple rounds.  Interestingly, if these guns were not readily available, it might significantly cut down on mass shootings (see image above).  This leads to an interesting question, but one that I will not have time to address here and now.  That is, if mass shootings were drastically reduced because these guns were no longer readily available, would the justification of private citizens owning these guns for personal protection be a less compelling position?  What do you think?

Rafael Rodriguez and The Lukan Beatitudes

In a recent post on the Jesus blog, Rafael Rodriguez, a scholar for whom I have the utmost respect, definitively pronounced that two other scholars (Francis Watson and Mark Goodacre, for whom I also have the utmost respect) were wrong.  Here is what he said,

"Therefore, Watson (and Goodacre) are wrong to insist on translating the Lukan beatitudes, "Blessed are those who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God."

Now, I am not a big fan of definitive pronouncements in general, and I think that Rodriguez was unfair to do so in this case.

Now, the issue is the translation of Luke 6:20-21 in which Jesus pronounces three groups of people as blessed. Grammatically, the form of these three groups is in the masculine, plural, nominative, which would normally translate as "the poor, the hungry, and the weeping."  So, per Watson and Goodacre, the verses would be translated, "blessed are the poor," "blessed are the hungry," and "blessed are the weeping (or those who weep)."

Now, Rodriguez makes his case that the construction should be translated as "blessed are you who are poor, blessed are you who are hungry, blessed are you who weep," based on a grammatical argument. According to Rodriguez, the nominative case is actually functioning here as a vocative due to the second clause in each beatitude which is unambiguously translated, "for yours is... for you shall...for you shall."  In support of this, Rodriguez calls on the grammar of Blass, Debrunner, and Funk, one of the authoritative Greek grammars in the field.  BDF uses as an example of the nominative functioning as vocative, Luke 6:25, which is one of Luke's corresponding woes (see BDF §147, p. 81).  6:25 is also unambiguously translated, "woe to you who are full."  But in this case, the woe to you is unambiguously in the text in the first clause.  Not so, in 6:20-21.  So, even though BDF draws an example from a verse that is in close proximity to 6:20-21, it is not a slam dunk therefore to argue that 6:20 must therefore be translated as a vocative, "blessed are you."  All that this proves, in my mind, is that it is certainly possible to translate the three blessings in 6:20-21 as vocatives, i.e., "blessed are you."

But, for the moment I don't want to dwell solely on the grammar,since I think that both translations ("blessed are the..." and "blessed are you...") are grammatically possible, but I want to highlight the possible rhetorical figure of speech in 6:21-22 which may play into the argument and possible translation.  In my 2011 book Figuring Jesus  (Keith Reich, Figuring Jesus: The Power of Rhetorical Figures of Speech in the Gospel of Luke, BINS 107, Leiden: Brill, 2011) I highlighted Luke 6:20-21 as the figure of speech Apostrophe (p. 59).  According to  Heinrich Lausberg, Apostrophe "is 'turning away' from the normal audience and the addressing of another, second audience, surprisingly chosen by the speaker.  The practice has an emotive effect on the normal audience, since it is an expression, on the part of the speaker, of a pathos." (Heinrich Lausberg, Handbook of Literary Rhetoric, (Leiden: Brill, 1998), § 762 p. 338.).  At the time I wrote that book, the figure seemed obvious.  In 6:21, Luke begins his blessings with a general audience, "blessed are the poor."  But then, using the figure of Apostrophe, he changes audience and directly addresses the disciples, "for your's is the Kingdom of God."  This shift in audience has already occurred once in the passage.  In Luke 6:17, Jesus is said to be "with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon."  So, we envision a large crowd of all sorts of people surrounding Jesus. But then, at 6:20, Jesus "lifting up his eyes to his disciples, he said."  I think the interplay here is a switching between one audience, the large crowd gathered around Jesus, and a second, more specific audience, Jesus' disciples.  So, in each of the blessings, the first clause is pronounced to the large crowd ("blessed are the poor..." "Blessed are the hungry now..." "Blessed are those who weep now..."), while the second clause is a direct address to Jesus' disciples.

If this figure is at play in 6:20-21, then Watson and Goodacre are correct in their translation and Rodriguez is mistaken.  What do you think?

Why I Blog (5 Years in)

This blog reached the age of five on April 12, 2015.  The occasion went unnoticed by me or anyone else because at that time, this blog had gone dark for over a year.  In fact, the blog has been dark for most of the past 4 years since I have been gainfully employed.  Yet, this semester I picked up again writing on the blog on a semi-regular basis (about three times a week).

I thought this would be a good time to revisit the question of why I blog (see my post from November 2010 discussing the same question).

I have wrestled a bit over this past semester with this question.  Am I looking for self promotion in my field (as I was five years ago while on the job market)?  Am I looking for recognition?  Am I looking to gain followers?  But, the consistent answer to all of these questions have been a resounding no. In fact, I am not even sure if I could envision an ideal audience for this blog.  I am not writing for fellow scholars.  Not all of my posts are relevant to a broad range of people. In the end I have come to the conclusion that  I do not blog for anyone other than myself.  That may sound selfish, or narcissistic, but in the end, this blog is a tool for my writing.

I picked up the blog at the beginning of this semester because I have not written much in the past 4 1/2 years since I have been a full time professor.  But, on the few occasions that I have had to write things, I have found that it is like pulling teeth.  I am out of practice.  I cannot get my thoughts down on paper (or on the screen) the way I would like.  So, merely as a tool for practicing my writing, I decided to start blogging again.

Now, in theory I could practice writing in any number of ways.  I could simply create a personal journal in Microsoft Word.  But for some reason, that does not hold the same allure. There is something about putting my thoughts out there in public that is more appealing than just keeping a private writing library. I don't have any expectations for readership.  I don't feel pressure to gain readers or followers.  I have just been looking to practice my writing and thinking.  I have loved blogging this semester and trying to get my thoughts down in a sustained manner.

Now, blogging does come with some nice extra benefits.  I have been able to interact with others on my topics.  I have reconnected with some other bloggers. I have met some new bloggers thanks to the Bloggers dinner at the SBL conference.  But, none of those benefits are why I blog.  I blog just for me.  These other benefits are simply the icing on the cake.  If you are reading this, I hope you enjoy. If what I write is interesting or stimulating.  I would love your thoughts and comments.  If on the other hand you are bored.  So be it.  This blog is for me.

Loving Your Enemies...

Never involves killing them!

In a speech to Liberty University, Jerry Fallwell Jr., the university's president, addressed the school last week in the wake of the San Bernardino shootings and said the following:

"I always thought that if more good people had concealed-carry permits, then we could end those Muslims before they walk in and kill,"

Now, if we interpret the Christian faith using the internal logic of evangelical Christianity, of which Falwell is a foremost representative, then there is no way to avoid the conclusion that Falwell is calling for DIRECT and UNFLINCHING DISOBEDIENCE to one of the most visible commands of Jesus.  He is calling on Christians to kill Muslims.

This obviously goes against a command of Jesus that occurs not once but twice in the New Testament:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’  But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, (Matt 5:43-44)."

“But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,  bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.  (Luke 6:27-28). 

Commands of Jesus don't get much more clear than that.  But Falwell is calling for DIRECT DISOBEDIENCE to this clear command of Jesus.  In fact, what he is preaching is "You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’  He is saying that to love one's neighbor (i.e., good Christian Americans like him), you have to kill your enemy (i.e., muslims).

Now, this love your enemy command can get tricky.  How does one define love?  For example, is it loving to let someone persist in bad actions that harm both others and themselves? Of course not.  So, one can make an argument (whether one agrees or not) that a seemingly unloving action, such as incarcerating someone agains their will, is actually a loving action, even though one might have to do things that seem unloving to accomplish this (like forcefully putting on handcuffs, etc.).  Or, one debate that never ends in our society is about the disciplining of children.  Is a seemingly unloving action of spanking a child actually a loving action of discipline.  Some say yes, some say no.  But this kind of reasoning with regard to killing does not work according to evangelical Christianity's own internal logic.  Let me explain.

For evangelical Christians, when a Muslim dies, he or she by definition is not saved, has not accepted Jesus as his or her personal Lord and Savior, and therefore goes to hell.  Therefore, to kill a Muslim, according to evangelical Christianity, is to sentence that person to eternal torture in hell.  Nothing could be less loving.  Therefore, for Falwell to call for the killing of Muslims is to call for DIRECT UNFLINCHING DISOBEDIENCE to the clear command of Jesus to love one's enemies.

What do you think?

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

I am firmly convinced that the biggest factor in determining our actions is the story that we tell ourselves.  If one is a Christian, how we read the story of the Bible determines our actions. 

It is not the specific commandments of the Bible that are determinative, but the story.  Stories shape our self understanding at such a deep level that this is what informs our attitudes, outlooks, and behaviors. 

I think that much of what goes on in the name of Christianity comes from a fundamental flaw in our reading the Christian story.  It has to do specifically with a misreading of the character of God as revealed in Jesus.  This misunderstanding comes at the climax of the biblical narrative, the death of Jesus on the cross.  You see, if one reads the death of Jesus on the cross as simply a placeholder until Jesus returns to bring judgment and wrath on God's enemies, then one can justify killing in the name of God.  If Jesus' death on the cross was only the temporary solution to sin until he could come back in power, wrath, and judgment, smiting all of God's enemies, then Christians can claim to be agents of that judgment in the here and now.  

But, if you read Jesus' death on the cross not as some placeholder, not as some temporary dealing with individual sins, but rather as God's answer to a wicked world, God's message that power comes through weakness and surrender, then the whole justification for carrying out God's wrath falls apart. If Christians are truly to live out WWJD, the answer always comes back, love your enemies and take up your cross. 

This misunderstanding I think gets put on full display in many readings of the parable of the pounds in Luke 19:11-27.  In that parable, a nobleman goes away to receive royal power and leaves his possessions in the hands of his slaves to do business with.  His citizens oppose his rule, and send a delegation after him argue against his becoming king.  The nobleman receives his kingdom, returns and calls his slaves to account.  He rewards those who made money and takes away everything from the slave who made nothing.  Finally, he slaughters those citizens who opposed him.  The misunderstanding in many readings of this parable is to think that the nobleman is Jesus.  But, if one reads this parable in the light of its historical background, it is impossible to think that this nobleman is Jesus.  Instead, Jesus is describing the story of Archelaus, son of Herod the Great, an especially hated king.  Archelaus had to travel to Rome to have his kingship ratified by the emperor.  His citizens opposed him and sent a delegation after him to oppose his kingship to the emperor. He did receive part of his fathers kingdom and ruled for ten years.  On multiple occasions he slaughtered citizens who opposed him.  Jesus, in the parable of the pounds is describing Archelaus, not himself. He is describing earthly kings with their lust for money and power.  He is not describing himself or the Kingdom of God.  Yet, largely because of Matthew's similar parable of the talents, many read Luke's parable of the pounds as the story of Jesus as King.  If that happens, then Jesus is a king who is going away for a time, but will one day return to smite his enemies.  If that is the case, then Christians, who are of course on Jesus' side, can happily go along identifying Jesus' enemies and smiting them as they have the opportunity, all in Jesus' name. 

I have come to read the story differently.  Jesus' death on the cross was God's answer to the violence of the world.  The answer to violence, hatred, and wrath is not to fight it with more violence, hatred and wrath, but rather to submit in love and service. Here is how Jesus put it in Mark 10:42-45: 

42 So Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. 43 But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant,  44 and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.  45 For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

What do you think?