Faith and Science

There are things we can or must do. We walk and breathe. We are responsible for our lives, working hard, and caring for others. But there are also things that we cannot do or control because we are weak dust. We are dust from the perspective of science. We realize that we are so small compared with endless space. This world or universe seems hollow and worthless. In a "meaningless" world, how can we live or reinvent ourselves? How can we reimagine this world with hope? We need conscientious faith to live well. But blind faith is harmful or dangerous.

What do I care about?

I care about ancient history, literature, and culture. But what I care more about is not the past but the lives of people today, here and globally. I study and teach because of this.

 

An Asian Introduction to the New Testament

I contributed a chapter entitled "An Introduction to Asian Biblical Hermeneutics" to the following book edited by Johnson Thomaskutty (available around Nov. 2021).

Tomorrow is an extension of today

What remains as I am getting older is the sheer reality of an ailing body, spirit, and soul. But it is also true that what I have done will outlive me. So, I exercise every day to keep healthy and try to produce something, amusing myself with new ideas, brushing up on new vocabulary, brainstorming about future research topics. At the root of my concerns lies the very fact that I will not be here forever. I will do what I can today. That is something I can achieve. Tomorrow is not mine, and if it comes, that is an extension of today.

"Nacham" (Job 42:6) as "to repent" or "to comfort"?

In Job 42:6, did Job repent or comfort himself after/because of God's appearance? The verb in the issue is nacham, נָחַם. Except for the Common English Bible and the Complete Jewish Bible with Rashi Commentary, almost all English translations go with "repent," which seems absurd, given the Joban perspective in that the issue is not sin but innocent suffering. Eventually, what Job urgently needs is not the logical answer to why he suffers--about which God did not answer him at all--but God's presence and comfort. 

-The Complete Jewish Bible has it: "Therefore I despise [my life], and I will be consoled on dust and ashes."

-CEB: "Therefore, I relent and find comfort on dust and ashes."

-NRSV: "Therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”

-The Hebrew text: עַל־כֵּ֖ן אֶמְאַ֣ס וְנִחַ֑מְתִּי עַל־עָפָ֥ר וָאֵֽפֶר: 

-The root verb in the issue is nacham, which means to comfort (in many places in the Hebrew Bible, including Job) or to be sorry. 

“‘Therefore I retract my words, and I am comforted concerning dust and ashes’ (i.e., the human condition)” (Newsom, The Book of Job).

***

I am reading this interesting article: "Advice to Job from a Buddhist Friend" by Sandra B. Lubarsky. [Shofar: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Jewish Studies, Volume 17, Number 3, Spring 1999, pp. 58-68 (Article) Published by Purdue University Press]

"God comes to Job and Job feels God as personally present, as one who knows and cares for him. It may be that the "answer" to such a fundamental question as suffering finds expression in relational terms because the existential need that arises from suffering is ultimately for relationship and care, not for logic. Perhaps it is the case that though there is much that we do not understand, this much we can understand--that we are connected, each to each, to all of creation and (for Jews) to the Creator and that that connection is permeated with God's presence and care. Here Judaism and Buddhism meet--though the one is theistic and the other not--in the belief that the heart of understanding is relationality."

Interpreting Job

I am reading this interesting article: "Advice to Job from a Buddhist Friend" by Sandra B. Lubarsky. [Shofar: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Jewish Studies, Volume 17, Number 3, Spring 1999, pp. 58-68 (Article) Published by Purdue University Press]

"God comes to Job and Job feels God as personally present, as one who knows and cares for him. It may be that the "answer" to such a fundamental question as suffering finds expression in relational terms because the existential need that arises from suffering is ultimately for relationship and care, not for logic. Perhaps it is the case that though there is much that we do not understand, this much we can understand--that we are connected, each to each, to all of creation and (for Jews) to the Creator and that that connection is permeated with God's presence and care. Here Judaism and Buddhism meet--though the one is theistic and the other not--in the belief that the heart of understanding is relationality."

"The body of Christ" research

My academic journey began with a critical examination of the body metaphor, especially "the body of Christ" in 1 Cor 12:27 and elsewhere in Paul's letters. Eventually, my dissertation about this topic was published by Fortress Press in 2008: Christ's Body in Corinth: The Politics of a Metaphor (Fortress, 2008). This book is one of the earliest volumes in the Fortress series Paul in Critical Contexts. Since then, many researchers and theologians have referred to my work. In fact, my reading of "the body of Christ" is unique and sound, as the book was reviewed by some:

Although much has been written on the Pauline notion of the "body of Christ," this contribution by Presbyterian scholar Kim offers a thoughtful and provocative insight worth considering. Kim observes that the Pauline metaphor can be interpreted as setting boundaries or differentiations between the Christian community and those outside. However, if we consider the "body of Christ" as the crucified body of Christ it can be seen as a means of dissolving boundaries and being more inclusive, particularly of those who are pushed to the margins or who suffer. Kim draws out from this key Pauline symbol the implications for the church and society today, particularly in the Gospel call for solidarity with those who are marginalized. --Donald Senior, The Bible Today, 47(2) p.141. (Mar-Apr 2009)

Thanks also for calling attention to your book on the body of Christ in 1 Corinthians. I read the attachment that you sent, and it sounds like your interpretation and ours are very supportive of each other. I do think the body image is about inclusive egalitarianism in the new life in Christ, and not about sharp social boundaries. -- A message from Marcus Borg (May 21, 2009).

I’ll add my own encouragement to it–I was at a clergy meeting last week where the question of “the nature of the church” came up, and someone said “Well, we’ve all got to strive for unity because we’re the body of Christ,” and I described your book and said that metaphor meant a lot more than just unity. People had never heard of the idea before. I hope it revolutionizes our thinking! -- a Message from Neil Elliott, editor of Fortress Press (May 21, 2009).

Why I wrote this book:

The interpretation of the "body of Christ" in 1 Corinthians is a pressing concern in the present context of a diversified global church because its predominant interpretation as an ecclesiological organism characterized by unity and homonoia (concord) serves as a boundary marker that tends to exclude the voices of marginality and diversity. This traditional reading, while plausible, ignores a deeper, ethical meaning of the "body of Christ" as re-imagined through his body crucified, which questions an ideology of hegemonic power in both the Corinthian context and today. From the perspective of a different conception of community and of soma christou in the image of Christ crucified, this metaphor of soma christou becomes a metaphor for a way of living through which the Corinthian community is expected to live as a Christic body, identifying Christ's body with the most vulnerable and broken bodies in the community and in the world, an issue that we are to grapple with and resolve. Read this way, Paul's theology continues the legacy of Jesus tradition in terms of deconstruction (critique of religion and culture) and reconstruction (advocacy of the beloved community for all). Paul's theology should be reclaimed as such so that we might truly appreciate what he lived for. That is why I wrote this book.

What is truth? Or, which truth are you talking about?

Truth has always become a bone of contention. Different people understand it differently. Sometimes, people impose on others their understanding of truth. What is truth? Or, which truth are we talking about? While we do not know everything about it, we can think of several types of truth in our human world.

First, there is a scientific, objective truth. For example, the earth rotates the sun; this is a fact. Even in human lives, if there were a homicide, the truth is there are a killer and victim. Things exist or happen in the world apart from us, or regardless of how we interpret them. In some sense, science belongs to this category of truth.

Second, there is a phenomenological truth, which is a perspectival or interpretive truth. In other words, it has to do with seeing or interpreting what is happening. For example, people see the sun rising and setting. From their eyes, they truly see the sun moving. In complex human lives, for instance, in the case of a homicide, we need to know why it happened. Likewise, in an unjust world, some may point out the problem of unequal distribution of income. In a sense, spirituality, in its broad sense, falls into this category of truth.

Third, and lastly, we can think of religious truth, which is understood and canonized in a particular religious tradition. Various understanding and practices of spirituality are organized and developed into religious forms. For example, while Jesus was a "spiritual" person, later Christianity as a religion emerged and flourished with express claims of religious truth. Along the way, sacred writings (scripture) were produced, collected, and interpreted in ways to support and transmit a set of religious truths. While celebrating a diversity of sacred truth in various religions, we need humility because truth is more than religion.

We should acknowledge each of these areas as unique and necessary. Science helps us realize who we are and where we live. We are from the dust and return to it. Spirituality is a response to science in some respects. How can we live as dust-being? Questions ensue: What happens after death? Why do bad things happen to good people? Too much spirituality or speculation may not be sound. But the sound and proper spiritual response to the harsh realities we face daily is needed. When people codify spirituality or religious experience into a text, namely, scripture, an organized religion starts and helps people stay in a comfortable, challenging community of faith. But the problem begins when religion takes over sound spirituality and unifies people with a single truth claim.

It's interesting to see all three elements of science, spirituality, and scripture in a single text, for example, in Gen 2:7. The first human out of the dust speaks of science. The breath of life breathed into the first human reflects spirituality. When people read Gen 2:7, they read it as scripture and put it in a theological dogma.

A new definition of biblical interpretation

Biblical Interpretation means to   

• explore all possible bits and pieces in biblical texts; 
• examine parts-and-the-whole relationships in the text;
• recognize "multiple worlds" of the text and its complexities;
• respond to the text critically and self-critically;
• take a stand without claiming its absolute; and
• maintain an open-ended approach to the text.  

 

Slumdog Millionaire

When Paul talks about "the body of Christ" (as Christ's broken body) in his letters (1 Corinthians in particular), the image of the body provokes the image of the destitute, uncared, broken bodies in the Roman Empire. With this kind of imagination in mind, we can watch the movie, Slumdog Millionaire.

Then we can see the issue of body and suffering, love and destiny, and body and economy. Slumdog Millionaire shows the underside of the "normal" city in India, which thrives on its own fleshy desires, mingled with a manly will. The image of a slum permeates the entire movie. The city has two faces: a machine-like uncaring fastidious city and the varied city people accustomed to it.

In particular, I am captivated by the word “destiny” in the movie. Slum children give into their destiny of living on the threshold of a city. It is a cruel destiny if any; they did not choose it. There is no immediate hope that they could get out of their misfortune. Their destiny holds them together wherever they go.

At times, their destiny is challenged, and yet it is hardly broken down. Salim, Jamal’s older brother, rebels against the slum masters to protect and rescue his brother. Yet he himself is under the control of the master, depending on him to survive. It is kind of a vicious circle.

Although it does not answer the question of how to break away from the shackles of such a destiny, the movie raises plenty of destiny-driven questions: Who is responsible for this destiny if there is a destiny at all? How do they break away from it? What are the roles of other people in the city who live normal lives?

In the last scene of the movie, the meaning of destiny shifts dramatically and emphasizes the bonding love between Jamal and Lakita: “It’s our destiny; kiss me.” Something destined for them is not a slum but a love that they want to keep even in the midst of the difficulties of daily life in a slum.