Eric The Blue

Books of the Bible: Luke

We've noted that scholarship accounts for the similarities between the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke--the "synoptics"--by postulating that there is a literary relationship between them.  This theory, known as "the priority of Mark," holds that Mark was composed first and was a source for the authors of both Matthew and Luke.  The theory has considerable explanatory power, including the way in which it makes sense of why Mark's expectation of an imminent end to human history is blunted in both Matthew and Luke--it's because Matthew and Luke were writing later, and Mark's prediction hadn't come true.  I suppose it's obvious that this is not a conclusion that our fundamentalist friends can tolerate, but it's a widely accepted tenet of New Testament scholarship. 

Let's look rather closely at some of the textual evidence as it relates to a comparison between Mark and Luke.  In Mark, the beginning of Jesus's ministry is described, at 1:14-15, in the following manner:

Now after John [the Baptist] was arrested, Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel."

The parallel passage in Luke (4:14-15) goes like this:

And Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit into Galilee, and a report concerning him went out through all the surrounding country.  And he taught in their synagogues, being glorified by all.

The Markan emphasis on the content of the teaching--the time is fulfilled! the kingdom of God is at hand! repent!--is in Luke excised.  If you lay the texts side-by-side, you see that this happens consistently.  Perhaps the most startling example occurs near the end of the respective gospels, when Jesus is warning his followers about the end time.  Mark (13:5-6):

And Jesus began to say to them, "Take heed that no man leads you astray.  Many will come in my name, saying, 'I am he!' and they will lead many astray."

Luke (21:8):

And he said, "Take heed that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name, saying, 'I am he!' and 'The time is at hand!'  Do not go after them."

Mark has Jesus say, "The time is at hand!"  Luke has Jesus say, "Don't be led astray by anyone who says, 'The time is at hand!'" 

What's often called "the Gospel of Luke" is actually the first installment of a two-part work that may be designated "Luke-Acts."  The second part, the book known as the "Acts of the Apostles," or just "Acts," is a history of the early church.  There is no question but that Acts is from the same hand as Luke and that the two books were conceived as a single composition.  While deferring our discussion of Acts, let's just note that its very existence is of a piece with the theory that its author was concerned to defer the Second Coming to some indefinite future time, with the result that an interim period not foreseen in Mark could be filled with a narrative about the activities of the early Christian heroes.

Paying close attention to how the author of Luke-Acts handles, and alters, source material from Mark is one fruitful interpretive strategy.  But of course not all of Luke has a source in Mark, which is by far the briefest of the four gospel narratives.  The story of Jesus's nativity--the announcement to Mary, the census, the angels, the shepherds, the manger and the wise men bearing their gifts, all of that--is not found in Mark.  Neither is there in Mark any appearance of the resurrected Christ.  Another interpretive tool, therefore, is to separate out  the portion of the Lukan  narrative that has no parallel in the other gospels.  The idea is that, to comprehend an author's cast of mind, pay close attention to what he says when he breaks away from his source.  With regard to Luke, this approach yields quite a dramatic result.

Everyone knows that Jesus taught in parables.  Which are the most famous and loved?  The parable of the good Samaritan?  It's found only in Luke.  The parable of the prodigal son?  It also is found only in Luke. The parable of the prodigal son closes out a chapter--chapter 15--that contains only material unique to Luke.  The first half of the chapter is made up of the parables of the lost coin and the lost sheep.  The widespread notion that Jesus has a particular concern for lost causes and outcasts--that he came "to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable"--isn't made up by bleeding hearts.  It comes from somewhere--mainly, from Luke.  It's this aspect of the third gospel that stands behind the story of the priest who, accused of being a Marxist, replied that he was "Marxist as Luke."   

The parables of the good Samaritan and prodigal son have attained such a degree of cultural familiarity that their sharp edges are now somewhat smoothed.  The context for the former is a question from a lawyer about what is necessary to attain eternal life.  Jesus asks him what the religious law requires.  The lawyer, quoting Leviticus 19:18, answers perfectly--you are to love God with all your heart and mind and soul, and your neighbor as yourself.  When Jesus concurs, the lawyer asks, "But who is my neighbor?"  The parable of the good Samaritan is Jesus's answer to that question.  The priest and the Levite who pass by on the other side of the road from the injured man are conventional figures of religiously reputable Jews.  It is the Samaritan, a despised gentile, who goes out of his way to assist.  In the parable of the prodigal son, the "good son," who resents the joyful welcome his father gives the prodigal, is more or less in the role of the priest and the Levite, now with a voice:

[H]e answered his father, "Behold, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed a commandment of yours, but you never gave me a goat, that I might celebrate with my friends.  But when this, your son, came, who has devoured your living with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him."

It is easy to think of this other son as the villain, but, really, who is being honest while congratulating himself for not being like him?  His offense may be detected in his verbal constructions, for another way for him to say "this, your son" would have been "my brother." 

Newt Gingrich, author

One of the Republicans in my life asks whether I've read Newt Gingrich's novels and, if not, how I can know that they are "awful"--as I claimed, here.

I haven't read them and, unless ordered by a judge as part of some innovative new sentencing program, never will.  Other people have read them, however, and I take their word for it.  Their reviews include excerpts intended to persuade the skeptical, such as:

"Okay!  Okay!  There is nothing more," he said hurriedly, laughing with just a hint of  nervousness.  He stirred at the movement of her fingers, which were no longer on his chest.

"Can't it wait just a little while?" he panted, suddenly wanting her very much.

"If you promise faithfully . . ."

"I  promise.  Everything!"  She was truly an artist . . .

His next coherent words were: "We're making this new kind of bomb. . ."

Enough said?

The Democrats debate

My dad was over the other night, covering for me on the home front while I attended a couple of school conferences, and then, to my surprise, he expressed interest in hanging around to watch the Democrats debate.  "I like that old guy, Sanders," he said at one point, before  adding "and not just because he's old."  He seems to be contradicting the CW about how people get more conservative as they age.  I don't think he would have thought much of a "Democratic socialist" back in the day when he was denouncing Pete Maravich for dribbling behind his back.  Hell, he was going to emigrate if there was a second President Kennedy.

The CW among the media commentators is that Hillary "won."  I'm pretty sure that she helped herself more than Chafee or Webb advanced their long shot campaigns, although Webb got off one of the evening's best lines when he gently admonished Sanders, "I don't think your revolution's coming, Bernie."  (Or something like that; I'm not going from the transcript.)  Dad pronounced Webb "an interesting guy," an opinion with which I concur.  Check this out.  He's the only aspirant from either party who is probably a better novelist than candidate, a condition that four years ago applied to Newt Gingrich, whose novels are awful.  One of the talking heads opined after the debate that if Webb had not years ago switched parties he would be "a thoughtful alternative" for the Republicans.  This is just a way of saying that he's a conservative guy who's too levelheaded for the modern Republican party. 

What's the word for Hillary's performance?  I think her foes might go for "polished," with it's undersense of calculating insincerity, while still allowing that she's hyper-informed and articulate.  I thought on one occasion she crossed a line into that inflated zone that beckons all presidential aspirants, when she claimed that she and President Obama had hunted room by room for the dodgy Chinese at a global warming conference.  Overall, however, she deserves her good  marks.  For me, the bottom line on her candidacy is that she passes my Hippocratic-oath-applied-to-presidential-politics test.  That is, I think she's smart and cautious and therefore unlikely to do anything monstrously stupid, like invade Iraq. 

On the Iraq question, by the way, she, unlike Jeb Bush, had a solid, ready answer for an utterly predictable question.  I think the people who hate her probably didn't like the smart kids in school who always did their homework, either.  But it's not a bad trait for the president.

I thought O'Malley, the former governor of Maryland, did well.  He  certainly had the best closing statement.  The youngest voters are almost by definition our best hope, and it's true that they are trending Democratic, probably because, as O'Malley suggested, the rhetoric of a Trump, obviously so pleasing to Republican ears, is for them a huge turn-off.  Well, good for them.  It's a bit of a mystery why Republicans, as the country turns younger and browner, double down on pissed off old white guys.  It's a losing strategy.  If they've lost my dad, they're really in trouble. 

Republicans out perform Democrats trying to make fun of them

Andy Borowitz, who can sometimes out onion The Onion, has of late had Dr Ben Carson in his sights.

"Ben Carson: Pompei Victims Should Have Outrun Lava," blares one of his headlines.  "Ben Carson Shattering Stereotype About Brain Surgeons Being Smart," declares another.  I just saw the doctor interviewed on TV by Charlie Rose, and it made me feel kind of guilty for enjoying this sort of thing.  It's funny if the guy is dumb in a glib sort of way, exuding self-confidence while hanging himself.  Then you feel that he deserves it.  Poor Dr Carson, however, just isn't up to the thrust-and-parry, and of course Rose isn't going to throw him a floatie in the manner of Sean Hannity.  So the interview just disintegrates into Dr Carson gurgling incoherently.  Uff-duh.

But the doctor is not alone.  "Kevin McCarthy Enters Rehab After Admitting Struggles With Nouns And Verbs" is another of Borowitz's recent headlines.  McCarthy, of course, was going to be the Speaker of the House until, with the TV lights shining, he put together a string of verbal curiosities--preeminently the admission, or boast, that the Benghazi investigation had succeeded in its goal of driving  up Hillary Clinton's negatives.  It was widely reported that McCarthy was guilty of a "political gaffe," which called to mind Michael Kinsley's famous definition of that phrase: when a politician makes a mistake by accidentally telling the truth.

One of the laughable themes of the election season so far concerns how the Republicans have "a long bench."  Really?  It looks to me as if they can't find a single person to put in the game.  In their presidential contest, it's Trump followed by Carson.  A few Republicans  regret  this, and wait for a "grown-up," Jeb Bush perhaps, to rise, but every time Bush speaks he adds to the list of what are now called "unfortunate comments."  (Another recent Borowitz headline: "George W Bush Enjoying New Status as the Smarter Bush.")  In the House of Representatives it appears that McCarthy, a manifest dolt, was the only Republican that Republicans want to put forward as Speaker.  They can't govern themselves, and they have no interest in governing the country. 

Don't blame the politicians entirely, though.  The country is full of madmen, and Republican politicians are only trying to make themselves attractive to them.  I caught a bit of "Morning Joe" yesterday.  The on-air personalities were chortling about a poll showing that, by 79 to 19 percent, Americans favor restrictions on gun sales to mentally ill people.  They couldn't figure out who the 19 percent could be. I guess it would be a kind of gaffe to suggest that it's the garden-variety Republican primary voter.

People say Jon Stewart is a genius.  I think I disagree.  He only demonstrated that for producing an effect of absurdist hilarity it is generally sufficient just to roll the tape.

Strikeouts

Strikeouts: it's what my Twins are doing today, at the bat and, figuratively, in the field.  The light closing down on them on a brilliant October day.

I know, from watching so much televised baseball, and listening to games on the radio, that the announcers love to talk about how players today strike out so much.  As my wife would tell you, the play-by-play guy and his sidekicks have a lot of time to fill between pitches, when "nothing's happening," but I'm pretty sure they're onto something about all the strikeouts.  This is the first season that Joe Mauer has struck out more than 100 times, but Babe Ruth never did.  Though the Babe struck out more than any American League batter five times, his highest number was 93.  And here's one for you: in 1941, the year he hit safely in 56 consecutive games, Joe DiMaggio struck out 13 times all season.  There's different ways of expressing the amazingness of that.  He struck out once out of every 48 plate appearances.  He struck out twice a month. It's not as if he was choking up and slapping grounders behind base runners to advance them.  He hit 30 homers and had 125 RBI.  Everyone says DiMaggio's batting streak is a record that will never be broken, the most amazing feat in baseball history.  I guess I'd agree with that, but I'm not sure that just 13 strikeouts isn't even more amazing.  Of course, there's a connection between the two.  Strikeouts don't roll between diving infielders, or drop to the ground in that triangle where neither the second baseman nor the first baseman nor the rightfielder can reach.  The longest batting streak in the majors this season has been a paltry 21. To a considerable extent, it's probably because you can't get "lucky" when striking out.

It's the ninth inning and suddenly the Twins have the bases loaded, tying run at the bat.  Vargas.  Strike out!  Two outs.  Now Escobar.  Strike out!

The wild-card picture deteriorates

Before yesterday, when the Twins won and the Angels lost, leaving both teams one game behind the Astros going into the last weekend of the season, I hadn't thought to wonder about what happens in the event of a three-way tie for the last wild-card spot.  Three is obviously an awkward number for a mini-tournament and, according to what I read on my phone in bed late last night, an awkward mini-tournament is exactly what we'd get.  The details are sort of interesting.

The three teams would be designated A, B, and C.  On the day after the end of the regular season, A would play a home game against B.  Next day, the winner would play a home game against C. The winner of that game would secure the second wild-card spot.  If it happened to be B that prevailed, the wild-card game would be their third elimination game in three days in three different cities.

What's really interesting, however, is how the teams are designated A, B, and C.  The first consideration is their record in games against the two other teams.  The Angels (14-12) win this contest over the Astros (13-12) and the Twins (5-8), and so would get to choose their place in the mini-tournament.  Would they choose C?  I think so: you get a day off, and only have to win once to get to the wild-card game.  The Astros have the second-best record, and I'm sure they would then choose A.  The Twins would be B, and would play in Houston on Monday.  If they won, they'd play the Angels on Tuesday at Target Field.  If they won that game, they'd play the wild-card game against the Yankees, in New York, on Wednesday. 

The travel is crazy, but so is the fact that so much hinges on your record in games against the teams you're tied with.  A three-way dead heat after 162 games is resolved by playing a jerry-rigged tournament in which the teams are in effect seeded based on 26 games that the Angels played, 25 that the Astros played, and 13 that the Twins played.  And it's not as if the seeds are anything like equal.  If we could stipulate that the three entrants all have a sixty percent chance of winning a home game and a forty percent chance of winning a road game, then there is a forty percent chance that C would prevail, a thirty-six percent chance that A would, and a twenty-four  percent chance that B would. 

Well, it's one of those things that I think is wrong but for which I don't have any solution.  If you're upset about being Team B, you should have won one more game over the course of the long summer.  Anyway, the chance of someone having to suffer the sorry fate of Team B this year sank considerably while I've been writing this, because the Twins just lost to the Royals, the Angels have won their game, and the Astros are pounding Arizona. 

But let's see.  If the Twins could win their two remaining games . . . and the Astros lose both of theirs . . . and the Angels lose at least once . . . .  Hope springs eternal in the breast of a fool.