Samuel Group Script (2 of 6)

Here's my Samuel script from our group presentation, reformatted to read correctly in blog-form. My section is the second of our "redacted" patchwork of six, between Natalie's and KT's. An uneasy mix of simple dialogue and actual quotes/semi-quotes, read it as you would an outline. The plot elements and significant intricacies of Samuel are difficult to completely relate in a short-format script with any sense of narrative coherency.

Side note: I'll soon be posting a video slideshow of what was supposed to be shown by the projector during our puppet show, had there not been technical difficulties.

FIRST SAMUEL

CH. 11 - 17

NARRATOR: A month later, Nahash the Ammonite besieges Jabesh-gilead. Upon learning of the news, Saul slaughters a yoke of oxen and threatens the same fate to any who do not rally behind he and Samuel. It works, Saul now leads an army of three hundred and seventy thousand.

Enter Saul and company.

SAUL: Charge!

The Israelites massacre the Ammonites.

ISRAELITES: Long live King Saul! Death to any who doubted him!

NARRATOR: Saul fulfills his role as a kingly defender. The people rejoice and renew his kingship before the Lord at Gilgal. Samuel delivers his farewell address.

SAMUEL: You do remember that I judged all of Israel without once giving into corruption? And, yet, you still want a king?

ISRAELITES: Yes! How many times do we have to say it?

SAMUEL: You're getting in over your heads, you won't like monarchy. Trust me.

The Israelites groan.

SAMUEL: Fine! But you shall know the wickedness you have done in the sight of the Lord is great in demanding a king for yourselves.

Exit Samuel. Enter Saul and troops.

NARRATOR: With "troops like the sand on the seashore," the Philistines muster to battle Israel. In order to make an offering before the Philistines' arrival, Samuel tells Saul he will meet him in Gilgal within seven days.

SAUL: What's taking him so long? It's been over seven days! Bring the burnt offering here, I'll do it myself.

Saul makes an offering to God. Enter Samuel.

SAMUEL: What have you done!?

SAUL: Samuel! Well, I... I... th-the people were slipping away from me. The Philistines are gathering over in Michmash, you weren't here when you said you would be. What's a king supposed to do?

SAMUEL: You have done foolishly; you have not kept the commandment of the Lord your God. The Lord would have established your kingdom over Israel forever, but now your kingdom will not continue!

Enter Jonathan and Philistines.

NARRATOR: Despite the severity of his impending punishment, Saul continues to prepare for battle with the Philistines. Unbeknownst to Saul, his son Jonathan has raided the Philistine camp with only his armor-bearer as a companion, driving the Philistines into a panic. Learning of the tumult at the enemy camp, Saul's forces strike, causing the confused Philistines to flee.

SAUL: Cursed be anyone who eats food before it is evening and I have been avenged on my enemies!

NARRATOR: The troops find a tantalizing, oozing honeycomb, but restrain their appetites in fear of Saul's oath. Jonathan, having not heard his father's charge, dips his staff into the honeycomb and indulges himself.

SAUL: God, shall I go down after the Philistines? Will you give them into the hand of Israel?

No answer.

SAUL: God?

No answer.

SAUL: Alright! Who's been eating? Sin's arisen today! Or as the Lord lives who saves Israel, even if it is in my own son Jonathan, he will surely die!

JONATHAN: I tasted a little honey with the tip of the staff that was in my hand; here I am, I will die.

A commotion erupts amongst the Israelites.

ISRAELITES: Shall Jonathan die, who has accomplished this great victory in Israel? Far from it! As the Lord lives, not one hair of his head shall fall to the ground; for he has worked with God today.

Exit all.

NARRATOR: And so the people ransomed Jonathan, saving his life.

At God's behest, Samuel goes to Bethlehem to find a new king amongst the seven sons of Jesse.

Enter Samuel, Jesse and sons.

Samuel inspects the sons, looking the oldest, Eliab, up and down.

SAMUEL: Tall and handsome. Surely, you must be the one.

The voice of God interjects.

GOD: Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.

Samuel nods and continues to inspect the sons.

SAMUEL: Nope... not this one, nope... him neither. No... the Lord has not chosen any of these. Are all your sons here?

Enter David.

JESSE: Here's the youngest, David, just in from keeping the sheep.

Samuel is taken aback.

SAMUEL: You're eyes, they're beautiful!

GOD: Rise and anoint him; for this is the one.

Exit all. Enter Saul and his court.

NARRATOR: With the new king-to-be anointed, the spirit of the Lord departs from Saul, leading his mind to torment him.

SERVANT: My king, perhaps the music of a skilled lyre player will sooth you?

Enter David, playing the lyre.

SAUL: Ahhh, yes.

NARRATOR: Finding relief in David's music, Saul takes him under his wing, making the future-king his armor-bearer.

Around the valley of Elah, both the Israelites and Philistines gather in preparation for battle. The Philistines send forth their champion warrior, Goliath. Standing six cubits and a span tall, decked out in bronze armor, and wielding a huge iron spear, no one dares to duel him.

GOLIATH: Come! Choose a man for yourselves, and let him come down to me. If he is able to fight with me and kill me, then we will be your servants; but if I prevail against him, then you shall be our servants!

The Israelites tremble in dismay.

NARRATOR: For forty days, Goliath continues to call for challengers. Tending his father's sheep, David only hears of Goliath's challenge after bringing food to his brothers.

DAVID: I've protected my father's flock from bears and lions, killing them, just as I will kill the one who defies the army of the living God.

Goliath and David face off.

GOLIATH: Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field.

DAVID: You come to me with sword and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This very day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head; and I will give the dead bodies of the Philistine army this very day to the birds of the air and the beasts of the earth, so that all may know that there is a God in Israel.

Goliath charges after David, who slings a stone and strikes the Philistine directly on the forehead. Falling on his face, David grasps Goliath's sword and kills him.

The Israelites cheer, while the Philistines flee.

Saul glowers with jealousy.

SAUL: Who is this David?

The Slave as a Modern Critique

Bohdan Khmelnytsky (left) with Tuhai Bey (right) at Lviv, by Jan Matejko (1885)

Even after hearing the constant praises of Isaac Bashevis Singer sung, The Slave surpassed my expectations. An extremely moving period narrative centering around timeless themes, all integrated together without relying upon the overplayed tropes that often emerge from the archetypes of forbidden love and the fugitive/outcast. Singer had a real mastery over the creative powers of logos.

Through Singer's words, I became enmeshed in the worldview of a seventeenth century Yiddish Jew in Poland. So often narratives attempting to evoke a certain time and place fall victim to the lens of the present, but Singer seems to have ably avoided doing so while nevertheless keeping the story relevant to the modern reader. In fact, his choice of using Poland under the siege of Muscovites, Swedes, and Cossacks as a setting, with the Chmielnicki massacres being a major contextual pivot point, seems particularly deliberate in allowing the formation of parallels to modern day society. The history of European Jews is fraught with massacres, purges, burnings, pillaging, extortion, and so on. Yet, the catastrophic slaughter of Jews at the hands of the Cossacks remains one of the darker spots in an already bloody tapestry. Just as the gentiles and Jews do not live up to Jacob's ideals, neither do the Jews or gentiles of today live up to Singer's ideals. The hypocrisy of the Jews in Josefov and Pilitz, in spite of the "catastrophe," seems a very poignant critique of modern behavior and corruption, even with the horrors of the Holocaust still within living memory.

Peter Quince Video: Rough Cut

Created this experimental short for one of my film classes, in which we were assigned a "Remix" project that had to consist entirely of already existing content, both visual and audio. After finding a public domain mp3 of a reading of "Peter Quince at the Clavier," I searched through archival footage for relevant imagery. Thus far, this is the result.

At this point, it's still a rough cut. In the next week or two I plan on fine-tuning it and adding in some more elements and texture in Adobe After Effects.

http://vimeo.com/7606894

Password: WallaceStevens

The Times They Are a-Changin' (I Samuel 7-8)

1st Samuel 7-8, thoughts and summaries:

-Ch. 7: The ark comes to rest at Kiriath-jearim, where twenty years pass "and all the house of Israel lamented after the Lord" (1 Samuel 7:2). Is this a twenty-year lacunae, in which God continues his holy temper tantrums, killing non-celebrators here and inflicting tumors there? After all, the Israelites have yet again strayed into worshipping other deities and idols. Much of the history of early Judaism seems to involve God and his prophets dragging the "house of Israel" kicking and screaming into exclusive monotheism. According to the Harper Collins Study Bible, the meaning of the original Hebrew word in place for "lamented" is uncertain. Of course, I could easily be over-analyzing, and the Israelites are simply lamenting to be delivered "out of the hand of the Philistines" (7:3).

To be saved from the Philistines, Samuel tells the Israelites, "Direct your heart to the Lord, and serve him only" (7:3). Out of need, yet again, the Israelites obey and put away their "Baals" and "Astartes" (7:4). At Samuel's behest, all of Israel gathers at Mizpah, where he judges and purifies the people in a ritual that "anticipates the later observance of the Day of Atonement" or "Yom Kippur" (footnotes p. 399). The Philistines hear of this convenient gathering at Mizpah and launch an attack. On Israel's behalf, Samuel offers a whole burnt offering and cries out to the Lord. Accepting the offer, God "thundered with a mighty voice against the Philistines and threw them into confusion, and they were routed before Israel" (7:10). Israel regains the previously tumor-ridden towns of Ekron and Gath, amongst others taken by the Philistines, and maintains peace with the Amorites. Samuel carries on his new role as judge, traveling along a circuit through Israel. He builds an altar in Ramah, his home.

-Ch. 8: Samuel's sons turn out to be corrupt like Eli's, proving themselves unfit to succeed in his place. Yet again, the Book of Samuel presents a critique of hereditary succession. Israelite elders congregate at Ramah and point out to Samuel that he is old and his sons do not follow in his ways, so they ask of him, "appoint for us, then, a king to govern us, like other nations" (8:5). I find it interesting that the Israelites want to be like other people; I can imagine the jeers of outsiders, "You country bumpkins don't even have a king yet! Get with the times!" This irks Samuel, who prays to the Lord for guidance. God answers:

"Listen to the voice of the people in all that they say to you; for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them. Just as they have done to me, from the day I brought them up out of Egypt to this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so also they are doing to you. Now then, listen to their voice; only - you shall solemnly warn them, and show them the ways of the king who shall reign over them." (8:7-9)

Telling Samuel not to take the people's request personally, God's monologue establishes earthly monarchy as being a rejection of his role as the true and only king. By extension, such a monarchy would replace God's divine appointment of judges with a hereditary dynasty of kings, the same type of inherited power warned against in the portrayal of Eli and Samuel's sons (footnotes p. 400). Plotz remarks, "The Bible is refreshingly meritocratic: again and again it measures the worth of men by their deeds, not their bloodlines," except for the patriarchs (126). Makes me wonder how later adherents of the "divine right of kings" reconciled dynastic, royal absolutism with the anti-monarchial views of First Samuel.

Samuel delivers his convincing warning to the Israelites of what monarchy will entail. The king will appoint their sons to be soldiers, commanders, fieldworkers, and makers of war implements, while their daughters will become his perfumers, cooks, and bakers. The best of their fields, vineyards, and olive orchards will be given to courtiers, as well as one-tenth of their grain and vineyards being given to courtiers and officers. He will also take their slaves, the best of their livestock, and one-tenth of their flock. Samuel concludes, "And you shall be his slaves. And in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom who have chose for yourselves; but the Lord will not answer you in that day" (8:18).

Nevertheless, the Israelites stubbornly refuse to listen, demanding to be like other nations and have a king who "may govern us and go out before us and fight our battles" (8:20). Samuel relays the message to God. Granting the request, God tells the judge and prophet to "Listen to their voice and set a king over them" (8:22). Plotz asks if you can blame the Israelites for wanting a king, giving insight into their refusal to compromise with Samuel.

Really, can you criticize them for wanting a monarch? We just finished a book, Judges, which is all about what happens when there is no leader - mass murder, gang rape, anarchy, and so forth. The Israelites have lived through a nightmare. Samuel's theoretical warnings against kingship fail against the lived misery of Judges. Kings may be corrupt and brutal, but the Israelites aren't stupid for choosing monarchy over anarchy. I would have done the same. (Plotz 127)

Until reading First Samuel, I never envisioned myself siding with monarchists, but I also may have done the same. Samuel's later interactions with Saul, the first king, make me only more sympathetic to the cause of Jewish monarchy.

To be continued...

Of Mice and Tumors (I Samuel 1-6)

When we were first assigned our presentation groups, I must admit I was a little disheartened to be dumped with First and Second Samuel. Being unfamiliar with Samuel, the books seemed to form a dark, unknown behemoth, a giant of scripture I knew would take a lot of effort to conquer, especially given the amount of difficulty I was having at the time just getting through Genesis.

After taking the plunge, however, let it be known that there's nothing scary about the Book of Samuel. While it is certainly long, with its share of boring parts, Samuel presents numerous compelling narratives and an interesting account of a changing worldview amongst the Israelites - the transition from a system of judges to monarchy.

In our group, we divvied up First and Second Samuel into sections to specialize in based around actual stories, so as not to start and end arbitrarily. My section covers chapters 11 to 17 in First Samuel, so I took pretty detailed notes up until chapter 17, afterwards forcing myself to take fewer so I could finish sometime before the end of my lifetime. Since my sleep-deprived mind is not in the right frame to post a long, coherent essay based on my scribbled notations, (Exhibit A: my rambling thus far) I've decided to post an embellished version of my notes instead, in installments.

1st Samuel 1-6, an outline:

-Ch.1: Hannah, being barren, asks God to give her a son, in exchange she'll offer up the child to serve God for the entirety of his life. Samuel is born, Hannah makes good on her promise and brings him to the Shilonite priests, reciting an ancient poetic prayer of thanksgiving most likely absent from the original story (1 Samuel 2:1-10, footnotes p. 392).

-Ch.2: The sons of Eli, chief priest of Shiloh, are corrupt, taking the meat offered to the Lord, refusing to allow worshippers to burn the fat of the meat before taking it (2:12-17), laying with women who "served at the entrance to the tent of meeting" (2:22), et cetera. By transgressing against cultic sacrifice, they show themselves unfit to succeed their father. A critique of hereditary priesthood.

• Eli, "If one person sins against another, someone can intercede for the sinner with the Lord, but if someone sins against the Lord; who can make intercession?" Eli's sons do not listen, "for it was the will of the Lord to kill them." (2:25)
• An anonymous holy man visits Eli and tells him of the harsh destruction of the Shilonite priesthood, that the Lord declares: "I promised that your family and the family of your ancestor should go in and out before me forever," but now "those who despise me shall be treated with contempt" (2:30). According to the anonymous man, God will cut off Eli's family's strength, prevent them from reaching old age, cause members of his household to die by the sword, with both he and his sons dying on the same day, and survivors being relegated to serve under God's new priest just to earn a morsel of bread (2:31-36).
• The Harper-Collins footnotes describe this section as being written by the Deuteronomistic Historian, "chiefly concerned with establishing the ascendancy of the Zadokite priesthood" (p. 394).

-Ch. 3: Samuel ministers "to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread" (3:1). God calls to Samuel, telling him, "I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. For I have told him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them. Therefore I swear ... that the iniquity of Eli's house shall not be expiated by sacrifice or offering forever" (3:12-14). Eli asks Samuel the next morning what it was God told him, ordering him not to hide anything. After Samuel tells him everything, Eli simply replies, "It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him" (3:18).

• Samuel's vision confirms the oracle of the anonymous man, establishing him officially as a prophet who goes on to be known by all of Israel.

-Ch. 4: After being defeated by the Philistines, the Israelites bring out the Ark of the Covenant from Shiloh, in an attempt to sway the outcome of their next battle. This scares the Philistines, who fear the mighty "gods who struck the Egyptians with every sort of plague in the wilderness" (4:8). Interestingly, they seem to think Israel worships multiple gods. Regardless of the panic, the Philistines win yet again and capture the ark. Eli's sons, who accompanied the ark, are killed.

• When Eli hears the news, he falls back, breaks his neck, and dies.
• Eli's pregnant daughter-in-law goes into labor upon hearing the news, dying after birth. Before dying, she names her new son Ichabod, meaning "'The glory has departed from Israel,' because the ark of God had been captured" and her relatives killed (4:22).

-Ch. 5: Wherein God goes to town on the Philistines, making them completely regret ever laying hands on the Ark of the Covenant.

• Placing the ark in the temple to Dagon (originally a Syrian god) in Ashdod, they wake up to find the idol of Dagon toppled over. Putting the statue back upright, the next morning they find Dagon fallen over again, with his severed head and hands lying on the threshold of the temple. This story is used to create an etiological account of the then-contemporary taboo of stepping on the threshold of Dagon in Ashdod.
• God inflicts "tumors" upon the people of Ashdod (5:9). The footnotes describe these tumors as probably being the result of bubonic plague, common in coastal cities (p. 397). Plotz, on the other, seems to think of them as hemorrhoids (125). Makes me wonder if the translation he read translates the original word as "hemorrhoids" instead of the more generic "tumors", or if he's taking some journalistic license for the sake of being humorous.
• Spooked, the Philistine leaders gather to decide what to do. The residents of Gath volunteer to take it. Big mistake. They're inflicted with tumors too. They send the ark off to Ekron, who, you guessed it, become tumor-ridden and start dying off in a "deathly panic" (5:11).

-Ch. 6: The Philistines finally send the ark away for good, with a guilt offering of five gold tumors and five gold mice, mirroring the number of Philistine lords. "Tumors and mice are characteristic of the plague" (footnotes p. 397). Plotz cites an article in Biblical Archaeology Review that speculates the gold tumors were actually phalluses, "and that the real affliction ... was not hemorrhoids but erectile dysfunction" (125). I know phalluses were widespread throughout antiquity, but it seems like a stretch to me, something Frye might deem a result of being blinded by historicity.

• Sent away on a cow-drawn cart, the ark makes its way to Beth-shemesh. Upon seeing the ark, the residents rejoice and make offerings.
• At least seventy of the "descendants of Jeconiah" are killed for not rejoicing with the rest of Beth-shemesh, although the Harper-Collins Study Bible includes a translation note denoting the Hebrew words as meaning "seventy men, fifty thousand men," without further explanation, leaving me confused. Seventy or fifty thousand - that's a huge disparity. Does it mean seventy died out of fifty thousand or that fifty thousand and seventy died? Fifty thousand seems like too large a population for one town in ancient Israel, then again the Bible is hardly married to numerical accuracy.
• Either way, God's slaughter leads the people of Beth-shemesh to ask, "Who is able to stand before the Lord, this holy God? To whom shall he go so that we may be rid of him?" (6:20). I find this passage extremely interesting. The people of Beth-shemesh go from rejoicing over being in the presence of God through the ark to wanting to be rid of him. God is like a big, spoiled bully of a child that Beth-shemesh at first welcomes with open arms, but soon tires of his "holy" temper tantrums, opting to ship him off to the next gullible town.

To be continued...

Baptisms & My Religious Backstory

Today's talk of baptisms caused two experiences of mine to bubble up to the surface of my memory.

My own baptism was fairly lackluster, no prolonged dunks in a river for me. At least I remember it, vaguely. A Catholic baptism, on Easter, at the tender age of seven. Far more aware of the proceedings than an infant would be undergoing the same, I nevertheless was oblivious to the full meaning of the ritual. It was more of an item on a sort of spiritual checklist, along with First Confession, First Communion, on down to Confirmation (which I never made it to). While Mass was often a bore as a kid, I remembered being excited for the baptism, but probably moreso for the Easter egg hunt that was following the ceremony than the actual ceremony itself. Still, I generally enjoyed the spectacle of ritual and I still do to an extent, sans the innocence of my childhood gullibility.

Despite the fact that neither of my parents were Catholic, I was a de facto Catholic until about age 12 due to their enrolling me in a Catholic elementary/middle school - "St. Mary's Academy" in The Dalles, Oregon. Of course, according to the Church I'm still a Catholic, I think you have to be excommunicated to be taken off the rosters after being baptized. Makes you wonder about the validity of membership numbers issued from the Vatican. Anyways, as a small-town, poor private school, St. Mary's by that time was far different than the stereotypes most people associate with Catholic education. We wore no uniforms, although I remember the issue being continually brought up and debated amongst parents and teachers. Only my fourth grade teacher was a nun, and she had retired from the convent to live with her cats in a trailer park double-wide by that point. Every now and then murmurs of what amounted to corporal punishment circulated, but save for a few exceptions the discipline was only a little more strict than the area public schools. No rapping of knuckles with rulers. The priests of the neighboring church had an active role in the school's operation, but were resigned more to guest lectures, heading the youth group, and teaching religion classes, while a female layperson ran the actual day-to-day administration as principal.

Mrs. Richie, the principal, was often genial, especially when parents were around, but also fully capable of transforming into a frigid, disciplinarian prone to outbursts. I remember one of the "older kids" being violently berated (verbally) and suspended for bringing a small statue of Buddha to school. She equated the action to a full declaration of paganism, flirting dangerously close to - gasp! - Satanism. The woman could have benefited exponentially from even the most cursory reading of Buddha's teachings.

After sixth grade, my family moved from The Dalles to Scottsdale, Arizona. Total culture shock ensued. I went from being in a class of 19, in semi-rural Oregon, to a class of 450, in the metropolitan sprawl of Phoenix and its suburbs. Now in public school, I increasingly became what equates to a lapsed Catholic, identifying simply as a Christian, one who still harbored some Catholic tendencies. By the time we moved to Spokane, Washington, halfway through my sophomore year of high school, I had become a lot more skeptical of organized religion. Regardless, I still cherished my years at St. Mary's, where everyone knew one another and were generally good friends - it greatly contributed to the person I am today. Whereas, in Scottsdale, the onslaught of awkwardness and social hierarchy accompanying puberty was in full swing. The caustic nature inherent in most middle schools was compounded by the generally materialistic and shallow cultural atmosphere of the pseudo-Californian upscale suburb. I remember kids getting brand new BMWs for their first cars and girls getting rhinoplasty or even breast augmentations while still in high school. After moving to Spokane, MTV's vomit-inducing ode to bratty, self-possesed prodigal daughters who represent the extreme in American materialism, My Super Sweet 16, shot an episode on a girl from my high school. Still, my experiences in Scottsdale - no matter how bitterly remembered - were also very formative in my growth as an individual.

To avoid the writing of a novel - Alex Thomas: A Memoir to Bore You - in one blog post, I'll revert to a flowchart. After all, I still have my second baptismal story to get to. To wrap it up, my religious progression, or degression depending on your point of view, goes roughly so:

Catholic -> Self-spiritual Christian -> Skeptical Christian -> Experiments with Eastern theology/philosophy and Unitarian Universalism (another story for another time) -> Naturalistic Pantheism -> Disillusioned Skeptic -> Open-minded Nontheist (still have some pantheist inclinations, but I use nontheist as an umbrella term to avoid using more specific labels, such as agnostic or atheist, that I will only end up abandoning for others)

Despite the continual growth of skepticism in my personal beliefs, my interest in the subjects of religion and theology has also grown. I think this interest in belief systems stems from a broader proclivity towards learning and examining the interconnecting stories of humanity, from animist creation myths to Judeo-Christian parables.

During my senior year of high school, a friend of mine had a spiritual revelation, supposedly on a mountaintop. How biblical. He went from being a militant atheist to being a militant evangelical, enthusiastic in the way new converts often are, eager to prove himself worthy of his newfound religion. I, on the other hand, had recently renounced all ties to my Christian faith and was on a syncretic bender of picking and choosing beliefs from world religions, particularly Buddhism. Luckily, I spared myself later embarrassment by not publicly announcing myself as a Buddhist as so many fake-baked, hip, enlightenment-seeking Westerners do today in what amounts to a "Buddhism Light" of casual, haphazardly appropriated, highly romanticized philosophy.

Attempting to rise above my base urge to tell my friend he was making a huge mistake, I decided to attend his baptism and at least feign support as he was "officially" born again. Biting my opinionated tongue, at the time framing it in the vein of "What would Buddha do?" How am I better than my constantly proselytizing, fire-and-brimstone spouting friend if I too am judgmental? After all, his atheist, alcoholic mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer, which no doubt played a major role in his newfound faith. I felt sorry for him.

Ironically, his baptism took place during Easter, just like mine. The members of his new church were very welcoming, almost too welcoming, as if they could smell I was a non-believer in need of some saving. The Easter sermon centered around the story of Thomas the Doubter. A strange feeling crept over me, as if this had been arranged, as if it was the pinnacle of my friend's constant efforts to convert "Alex Thomas the Doubter". Further troubling was the fact that an odd amount of church members seemed to be turning their heads towards me, kind smiles in full effect, and that the minister announced that he knew there were some Doubting Thomases in the congregation, asking if they would like to now declare Jesus Christ as their savior. His sermon was hardly that convincing, still I ashamedly shrunk down in my pew, trying to shake the feeling that I was being watched. After what seemed an eternity, my friend and his younger brother (whom he had successfully recruited) delivered testaments to the iniquities of their oh-so-long lives living in the dark, now erased by the "glory" of Jesus Christ. Then came the dunk tank.

Afterwards, I kept quiet about my own experience in the church for fear of seeming like some conspiracy theorist. Interestingly enough, though, my friend seemed to give up on converting me soon after. During one of our fairly civil debates, he cited the advice of Jesus to his disciples to "shake off the dust that is on [their] feet as a testimony against" anyone who does not welcome them or their teachings (Mark 6:11). He explained that he had essentially done all he could for me. His metaphoric dusting of sandals did nothing to squelch the lingering suspicion about my experience at his church, that he had attempted one last great evangelical act by telling his fellow parishioners about me, in hopes of making his friend Doubting Thomas take a drink of their kool-aid. Then again, I was a bit paranoid.

Our friendship had already dwindled quite a bit, we had both been hanging out with different crowds for awhile. After heading off to college, we were relegated to being Facebook friends, very rarely talking to each other. Once his mother's cancer went into remission, his fanatic devotion seemed to ease up. Months later, he posted "notes" that seemed to reflect a questioning of his beliefs. Eventually, his profile no longer displayed "Christian" as his religion. Finally, some very anti-Christian remarks seemed to be popping up on his page. He had completed the circle: raging atheist to raging evangelical to raging atheist yet again. A raging ricorso. While I can be overly critical at times, he seems incapable of moderating himself. No matter the doctrine, he must impose his views upon others. I still feel sorry for him.

No Rest For The Wicked

Opened up Plotz's Good Book to a random page, searching for his musings on Samuel without using my common sense and b-lining to the table of contents. Page 197, his first sentence on Isaiah Chapter 48 leapt out at me:

The line so nice God uses it twice: "'There is no peace,' says the Lord, 'for the wicked.'" This is the closing verse of Isaiah 48, and of Isaiah 57.

I guess I automatically assumed that somewhere within the Bible resided the oft-quoted passage "No rest for the wicked." A great example of assumptive falsity. Yet another Biblical misquote that has erroneously established itself in our culture's collective conscious? I thought, perhaps, that another translation/version of the Bible contained a rendering of the verse closer to the common saying. As Isaiah 48:22 is essentially identical in the NIV, NSRV, and NKJV, I went back to considerably older English translations, along with the Latin Vulgate and newer Catholic versions. Here's what I could find online:

"Pees is not to wickid men, seith the Lord." (Wycliff Bible, late 1300s)

"There is no peace, sayeth the Lord, vnto the wicked." (Geneva Bible, 1599)

"There is no peace, saith the Lord, unto the wicked." (King James Version, 1611)

"There is no peace to the wicked, saith the Lord." (Douay-Rheims Challoner Revision, 1752)

"(There is no peace for the wicked, says the LORD.)" (New American Bible, 1970)

"There is no peace, says Yahweh, for the wicked." (New Jerusalem Bible, 1985)

"non est pax dicit Dominus impiis." (Latin Vulgate)

While I'm in no way fluent in Latin, I know that "pax" literally means peace, leading me to the conclusion that no translation offers a direct basis for the inclusion of "rest". Seems the common replacement of "peace" with "rest" emerged simply as a derivative phrase referencing the original, with the separation of the two versions fading from memory over time.

When read by itself, isolated from any additional context, the passage appears to be a declaration of retributive justice. Isaiah prophesies the fulfillment of God's promise to restore Israel to the Jews, delivering them from Babylon. Cyrus, ruler of Persia, is promised victory by God so that he may conquer Babylon, free the Israelites and allow their return to Zion. On a side note, Plotz makes an amusing connection to modern day events:

Cyrus remains a great hero to modern Iranians as the father of Persia. Cyrus is also a hero to Jews, because he liberated them, redeemed Jerusalem, and was famously tolerant of Judaism. So, you have Iran, a nation led today by an anti-Semite who calls for the destruction of Israel, sharing a hero with Jews, who revere said hero for restoring Israel. And what did Cyrus conquer? Babylon: modern-day Iraq. As I'm writing, Americans are fretting about Tehran's rising influence in Baghdad and Iraq's possible transformation into a vassal state of Iran. Twenty-five hundred years later and it's the same fights, the same land, the same people.

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Back on track. God makes good on his promise, pledging to heal the Israelites despite their past transgressions. Chapter 57 provides a strong context, in which God promises (through Isaiah) he will not "always be angry," despite Israelites "turning back" again and again, but will provide peace for all but those who persist in being wicked. When taken into such context, "There is no peace ... for the wicked," resists being a statement of retributive justice so much as a warning that the impending salvation of the Israelites will not be extended to those who are unrepentant, who continue in their wickedness.

I dwell in the high and holy place,

and also with those who are contrite

and humble in spirit,

to revive the spirit of the humble,

and to revive the heart of the contrite.

For I will not continually accuse,

nor will I always be angry;

for then the spirits would grow faint before me,

even the souls that I have made.

Because of their wicked covetousness I was angry;

I struck them, I hid and was angry;

but they kept turning back to their own ways.

I have seen their ways, but I will heal them;

I will lead them and repay them with comfort,

creating for their mourners the fruit of the lips.

Peace, peace, to the far and the near, says the Lord;

and I will heal them.

But the wicked are like the tossing sea that cannot keep still;

its waters toss up mire and mud.

There is no peace, says my God, for the wicked.

(Isaiah 57:15-21)