It would seem to be extremely important to understand Jesus from a Jewish perspective, primarily because Jesus himself was Jewish: he was not only understood by others as being a distinctly Jewish Messiah, but apparently understood himself as a distinctly Jewish Messiah. He constantly refers to Jewish scriptures to define his identity, stakes out positions on issues that would have been irrelevant to Gentiles, and consistently finds both his opponents and adherents within the Jewish community. On the other hand, beginning with Paul, writing in the 60s AD, and continuing with the author of the Gospel of John, writing around 90 AD, there’s a clear interest in separating from the Jews. (e.g. Paul’s movement toward allowing Gentiles into Christianity; John’s continual phrase, “The Jews”).
The family history book was rather old by the time I discovered it. We’d had it for years, and it hadn’t been recently published when it was given to us. It didn’t have my name in it, or my older brothers’, or even my mother’s, it was that old. I had a laugh at this thought process-why, it must be old; it was written before my parents were married. How dreadfully ancient! And, yet, politeness to my parents aside, it was old. It was from a time before I existed, a culture I was never a part of. It spans nearly two centuries of family history, holding memories from Friesland, the journey to Iowa, the years in Pella, my various family members’ relocations all around the country and globe-and all of this happened before I existed. View Full Post
Peter Rapp writes,
Yahweh speaks. He shatters steel by laughing.
Castles crumble. Kings of earth are nothing
like this mighty King, whose heavy throne
is paved in sapphire, capped with clearest stone.
Yahweh roars. His fearsome voice of fire
flashes forth from heaven, full of ire.
Amen, Amen, dico vobis: egomet sum via, et veritas, et ipsa vita.
“I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life.”
This sentence is often analyzed as being a Platonic statement. At least, that is not said in so many words. But it is obvious from the interpretations that the general idea is that Christ is some kind of Form of the True, as well as a Form of the Good, Form of Loving, etc. In later theology, particularly in Augustine, we hear that God especially, since he is spirit, is the highest rung of everything ‘good’. He is the Form of all that is good in any way. However, while the claim Christ makes is far-reaching, it is wrong to interpret it as Platonic. In what sense Christ really is the “ipsa veritas” is a difficult question; but he is not a Platonic Form of the Truth.
[Sound file added. The performer apologizes to E. M. Hansen and the readers for his tardiness in getting it up. And the mistaken rhythm in measure 26.]
When I first discovered the hymn ‘The Royal Banners Forward Go,’ it was mainly of interest because its first line is quoted in Inferno, but preferring music to Dante, I liked the hymn in itself from the first time that I played it. The arrangement in the hymnal, though, did not capture the passion that I saw in it, and hence I decided to arrange it myself.
Making a statement like that involves defining two things - “Classical” and “Dead”.
Had Brahms premiered a sonata that sounded like it belonged with powdered wigs, he would have come off stage with bits of rotten tomato stuck to his face. Mozart could write like Mozart, and Brahms could write like Brahms, and it’s possible Mozart could have even written like Brahms, but Brahms could never write like Mozart. Nobody would listen.
