Kirkepiscatoid

Padre Mickey posted a link to a recent NYT article that discusses the discovery of a stone tablet that may refer to a "dead three days and then a resurrection" story written decades before the birth of Jesus, but the object of the story is a fellow named Simon, who is mentioned in Josephus' history. It infers that "die/sit around dead three days/be resurrected" is more a creation of Jewish tradition than literal fact, if we are talking about Christ's resurrection.

Ok, this is coming from a person of deep Christian faith (me), who, on first glance, might seem a little rattled, but my response is, "Big Deal; so what." Yeah, maybe a little bit of a shocking response...but here's why.

Unlike the fundies, whose every tenet of their faith hinges on the unlikely chance that every "i" is dotted and every "t" is crossed in the Bible, and even the tiniest misprint risks throwing the whole concept out the window, it doesn't rattle my faith in the slightest.

After all, the Bible is a book of several books considered "holy" put together by multiple committees. It's a compromise, some got left in that maybe shouldn't have (cough, sputter, Revelationhackhack) and others got booted that maybe shouldn't. I have worked in academia long enough to know "all committees are compromised."

I have a feeling that stories about being resurrected after three days, may not be singular in antiquity to Jesus. Three is a very powerful number in the kabbalah. The number three--binah--is symbolic of "understanding"--it is linked to the womb and symbolizes growth and formation.

So we are back to my usual take, which is, "I am not interested in whether or not the stories in the Bible are literally true to the nth detail." But I do care about what they were meant to mean at the time they were crafted, and "What do they mean to me?"

There are plenty of other posts on this blog where I have struggled with the "literal-ness" of words like "resurrection" and "transfiguration." I have expressed my doubts about the "literal-ness" of these Gospel events. Yet I can still stand in church every Sunday and say the Nicene Creed and mean every word of it.

"How can that be?" some might say. Easy. Because I know something happened. I cannot explain that something, any more than my dogs can explain to me what two-day old mole scent smells like. That "something" changed the world. That "something" taught mortals to look beyond the law to please God and to connect to God through love; and that somebody who showed us that "something" was Jesus. He was connected to God in a way no one had been connected before, to gather enough attention to be seen. That in itself is divine. The factual details do not matter because the outcome speaks for itself.

It's like if you had your appendix taken out. It doesn't matter if the surgeon put six stitches in or eight, as long as you are healed of your appendicitis. If the surgeon remembers putting in eight, and in a fatigued moment dictated "six" in the operative record, who in their right mind is going to argue if there were six or eight if the operation was a success?

In the Anglican tradition, "I take the Bible seriously but not literally." These are the things I ask myself:

"How do these words connect me more closely to God, the author of the universe?"

"What, in my life, helps me believe the concept of a loving God and a place beyond death that is the seat of all that is good and right and true?"

"How can the words attributed to Jesus help me see this pure love of God that shone through his life, death, and whatever makes up his resurrection?"

"How do these words change my life to make 'the Kirkepiscatoid planet' better for the little circle of people my life touches, and the big circle beyond my little planet of people?"

All the newly discovered ancient tablets in the world cannot shake this quest. Period.