Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?

My church, Our Saviour's Lutheran in Arlington Heights, has been doing a seven-week study, led by Jodie Draut, based on Walter Brueggemann's Into Your Hand. Last night, for our Good Friday worship service, members of the group presented meditations on each of the Seven Last Words of Christ. This was mine:

The Fourth Word: “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?"

The Reading: Matthew 27:45-49 

When we human beings are dying, words come back to us. Frequently they are words from our childhood: a song, a psalm, or a prayer. Even when dying people are also suffering from dementia and can’t remember anything else, they often remember poems or hymns from their childhood.

Jesus speaks the words,  “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” from the cross in both the Gospel According to Mark and the Gospel According to Matthew. “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me,” is the only one of the seven last words of Christ that appears in more than one Gospel, and in both Mark and Matthew, these are also the only words Jesus speaks from the cross. He speaks them in Aramaic, the language he would have known as a child growing up in Nazareth. 

These words are the first line of a famous psalm, Psalm 22:

My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?

Oh my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;

And by night, but find no rest.

Jesus probably learned this psalm as a child— by memory, ‘by heart,’ as we would say—much as some of us here tonight might have learned ‘by heart’ the psalm that immediately follows this one, the 23^rd Psalm. Just as we would catch the reference if we heard a dying person murmur, “The Lord is my shepherd,” if there were Jews present at the crucifixion who heard Jesus murmur the opening line of Psalm 22, chances are they would have been able to fill in the rest. They would have known of the comparison of God to a midwife in verses 9-10:

Yet it was you who took me from the womb;

You kept me safe on my mother’s breast.

On you I was cast from my birth,

And since my mother bore me you have been my God.

 These Jewish listeners would have known that Psalm 22 continues:

For dogs are all around me,

A company of evildoers encircles me.

My hands and feet are shriveled;

I can count all my bones.

They stare and gloat over me;

They divide my clothes among themselves,

And for my clothing they cast lots.

The listeners would have been able to imagine that, as Jesus watched the Roman soldiers who were putting him to death, he was thinking of these dogs and evildoers. And these listeners would have known the conclusion of the 22^nd psalm:

To him, indeed, shall all who sleep in the earth

Bow down;

Before him shall bow all who go into the dust,

And I shall live for him.

Posterity will serve him;

Future generations will be told about the Lord,

And proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn,

Saying that he has done it.

Even as he drew his last agonized breath, Jesus still had the resources that had been given to him as a child; his education and his tradition had given him a way to think of his death, not as a humiliation or a defeat, but instead as an affirmation and a proclamation of the power of his God.

X-iles, Part III

Mulder: OK, Scully, I figured it out.
Scully: What did you figure out, Mulder?
Mulder: What you were talking about when you mentioned 'alien invasion' in regards to the books of Ezra and Nehemiah. Very clever: you were piquing my interest by pandering to my obsessions. In addition, you were pulling the old switcheroo.
Scully: Please explain to me the scientific nature of the 'switcheroo.'
Mulder: The text presents it as the return of the true Israel to Jerusalem from Exile--but you're hinting that the people living in Judah might actually have seen it as an invasion by a group of aliens.
Scully: It's an interesting thought experiment, Mulder: when you read the text of Ezra-Nehemiah, with which group do you identify?
Mulder: Do you even have to ask? I'm an American, Scully, and the mere thought of those elites with their fancy Persian ways coming into my land and telling me who I can and can't marry makes my red white and blue blood boil. I don't care who their grandfathers were, I don't care if they've got a charter from the Persian ruler, authentic vessels from Solomon's temple, and the 10 commandments in the original packaging: don't tread on me! No taxation without representation! And if a a Moabite wife is good enough for King David, it's good enough for me!
Scully: Ruth was King David's great-grandmother, Mulder, not his wife.
Mulder: Tyranny, Scully! Government elites hatching a conspiracy to force men to divorce their wives and send their children away!
Scully: Your righteous indignation on behalf of the wives and children does you credit. But can't you summon up that fertile Mulderean imagination and think about the matter from the point of view of the returnees?
Mulder: I'd rather not, Scully. You know how much I enjoy my righteous indignation.
Scully: Which makes you not unlike Ezra and Nehemiah.
Mulder: I suppose an argument could be made that the returnees were an endangered species. If they didn't draw the line at something as fundamental as marriage and the raising of children, they might have found themselves back at square one, worshipping a whole pantheon of Canaanite and Moabite gods. As Nehemiah says, there was the issue of the children not learning the language of Judah, those precious words of the law and the prophets. And then, these returnees came from people who had stood out against worshipping the Persian gods. The fact that the prayers of their parents and grandparents had been answered, and they were now back in Jerusalem, must have made them feel that their God, Yahweh, had a power that it would be dangerous not to acknowledge.
Scully: Those do sound like plausible reasons, Mulder. I admire your ability to put yourself in the place of these men.
Mulder: Plus they were probably sick of their wives anyway.
Scully: Mulder...
Mulder: They probably all just got together and said, "Hey, let's get new wives. Really hot new wives."
Scully: Mulder...
Mulder: It was the New Wives Club. But, Scully, put yourself in the place of those new wives. Do you think they ever really trusted their husbands? Do you think they thought, How soon until these guys find another document in the temple that says, all the priests get new wives? How soon until there's another commission that investigates us, and decides we're not Yahweh-approved? If you'd been one of those wives, Scully, what would you have done?
Scully: I suppose I'd have fired up the oven and started baking cakes to the Queen of Heaven.
Mulder: That's right. Queen of Heaven, baby!
Scully: Asherah.
Mulder: What did you call me, Scully?
Scully: Asherah is one of the names of the Queen of Heaven.
Mulder: I think a man should always be loyal to his partner, Scully. Even if she doesn't worship at the same altar or speak quite the same language.
Scully: And she should be loyal to him, even if he does sometimes become awash in self-righteousness...But Mulder, I think your assumptions about the lack of hotness of Moabite wives may not be supported by the texts.
Mulder: Are you telling me there may be biblical warrants for the hotness of Moabite women, Scully? Do you suggest more careful investigation into the biblical narratives?
Scully: The truth is in there, Mulder.

X-iles, part II

Mulder: So, Scully, I've been doing some research on Ezekiel. Just as you suggested.
Scully: Mulder, for a person who likes to think of himself as a loose canon, you are astonishingly predictable. Of course you've been doing some research on Ezekiel. Let me guess: you think that the throne-chariot which Ezekiel saw was actually a UFO.
Mulder: You have to admit, Scully, that the appearance of the throne-chariot as described by Ezekiel is highly suggestive of alien spacecraft.
Scully: All I have to admit, Mulder, is that Erich von Daniken has a lot to answer for.
Mulder: What else could it be, Scully, other than a spacecraft?
Scully: It could be exactly what Ezekiel says it is: a vision of the Glory of God leaving the precincts of the Temple and heading off toward Babylon, where the Ezekiel and the rest of the exiles from Jerusalem are living. God is God and requires a sufficiently awe-inspiring battle chariot in which to travel.
Mulder: So I suppose you incline to the view that Ezekiel's vision is actually the result of post-traumatic stress disorder.
Scully: The entire book of Ezekiel seems to me to be quite clearly the product of P.T.S.D. The man experienced a months-long siege of Jerusalem and then a forced thousand-mile march as a prisoner to the city of Babylon, where he and his fellow exiles had to adjust to God knows what. Nightmares, bizarre behavior, becoming aggressive, violent, or inappropriately sexual: all these are part of this text. It's a first-person account of wartime trauma in the ancient world.
Mulder: Scully, are you suggesting that the Old Testament might be something more than psalms, children's stories, and predictions about Jesus?
Scully: I'm suggesting, Mulder, that the subject of the book of Ezekiel is in fact 'alien abduction'; just not the kind of aliens or the type of abductions that you're always so interested in.
Mulder: Scully, you wound me. You know I'm interested in things other than alien abductions. I'm also interested in alien invasions.
Scully: I apologize, Mulder. I know you also have a healthy interest in sunflower seeds, Native American culture, civil rights, and porn.
Mulder: And baseball, Scully. Don't forget baseball. It's America's pastime.
Scully: But you know, Mulder, now that I think of it, there is a sterling example of 'alien invasion' in the Old Testament. And it includes conspiracy and the persecution of the innocent; it's right in your wheelhouse. You'll find it in the writings of the post-exilic prophets and the books of Ezra and Nehemiah.

X-iles, part I

Mulder: Scully, can I ask you a question about the Bible?
Scully: Mulder, is this about whether Jesus might have been an extraterrestrial?
Mulder: No, it's not. It's about the prophets.
Scully: Is it about the flying chariot in the book of Ezekiel?
Mulder: No. I want to ask you about the eighth-century prophets.
Scully: You want to ask me about Amos, Hosea, and Isaiah?
Mulder: Also Micah. Don't forget Micah, Scully.
Scully: What do you want to ask me, Mulder?
Mulder: I want to ask you if you think it's possible that the eighth-century prophets knew each other.
Scully: I suppose it's possible. Amos and Hosea were prophesying in Israel, the Northern Kingdom, while Isaiah and Micah were prophesying in Judah, the Southern Kingdom. They might have known each other, or known of each other.
Mulder: And Amos, even though he prophesied in the north, was actually from the south, so he might have been the contact.
Scully: The contact... Mulder, are you saying you think eighth century prophesy was a conspiracy?
Mulder: Well, there are commonalities that can't otherwise be explained.
Scully: Such as?
Mulder: All four prophets make the point that the people of Yahweh had broken their contract with their God. And all four prophets claim that Yahweh is about to punish his people using foreign armies. These were unpopular stands to make at the time and would have caused these men to be ostracized. I just think it's possible that the prophets might have needed some sort of psychological support for their activism, which would have lead them to form bonds with like-minded men.
Scully: Mulder, are you saying that Amos, Hosea, and Isaiah were the eighth-century equivalent to the Lone Gunmen?
Mulder: Also Micah. Don't forget Micah, Scully.
Scully: While it is true that the eighth-century prophets had some points in common, they also differed in their message. Amos, for example, locates the sin of the people in the unjust treatment of the poor by the elites, whereas Hosea asserts the sin lies within the religious institutions. Isaiah, an elite who shows an urban bias, believes there is hope that Jerusalem may be saved, whereas Micah, who was from a small town and therefore an outsider, says the city will be destroyed.
Mulder: By alien armies.
Scully: Mulder...
Mulder: But they are alien armies, Scully. How do we know what kind of aliens they were?
Scully: They were Assyrians and Babylonians.
Mulder: But don't you think there could have been rogue elements within the Israelite or Judean governments...
Scully: To which Mulder am I speaking? Are you Classic Mulder who blames all events on aliens, or are you Reboot Mulder who thinks everything happens due to government conspiracies?
Mulder: Scully, are you asking if I'm more like Hosea, who blames all events on the worship of alien gods, or Amos, who thinks everything happens due to unjust actions by elites?
Scully: I think you are most like Isaiah, who keeps getting rewritten due to his ever-increasing pertinence to current events. And if you want to know more about the eighth-century prophets, you should read the book by D.N. Premnath.
Mulder: What's the book called?
Scully: It's called Eighth Century Prophets.
Mulder: Good title. Does it include Micah? We can't forget Micah.
Scully: It does include Micah.
Mulder: Do you know who my favorite prophet is?
Scully: I would have to say Jeremiah.
Mulder: Got it in one, Scully. Who is your favorite prophet?
Scully: My favorite prophet is Jonah. Because Jonah would prefer not to be involved in all this drama, and yet Jonah keeps getting hauled back into it, again and again.
Mulder: Scully, are you comparing the X-Files to the belly of the whale?
Scully: I am, Mulder.
Mulder: Would you be surprised, Scully, if I told you there are theories that what happened to Jonah was actually a thinly-disguised account of alien abduction?
Scully: No, I would not be surprised.
Mulder: And now I'd like to hear more about that cool flying chariot in the book of Ezekiel!
Scully: It's called Merkabah mysticism, Mulder. You can look it up in Wikipedia.