Announcing a fabulous seminar taking place later this year in the wonderful city of Glasgow. The Bible, Critical Theory and Reception seminar is northern hemisphere sibling to the Australasia-based Bible and Critical Theory seminar and journal (of which Auckland TheoRel’s Caroline Blyth and Robert Myles are current editors). For our friends in the North, this seminar is not to be missed. More details below from James Crossley’s Harnessing Chaos …
Bible, Critical Theory and Reception: Glasgow, September 2016
The sixth annual seminar will be dedicated to some of the latest developments in biblical studies. Building on the success of the Bible and Critical Theory seminar and journal in the southern hemis…
Located at the epicentre of the City of London, the outdoor pulpit of Paul’s Cross was a key site in the expansion of a popular early-modern ‘culture of persuasion’. Paul’s Cross contributed significantly to the transformation of England’s political and religious identity and to the emergence of a ‘public sphere’ of discourse.
5.30pm, Monday 29th February, lecture theatre 206-220, Arts 1, 14a Symonds Street
Without entering into a discussion of Tamaki, his church or its finances, I wonder what the writer thought the difference was between a “bishop” and a “self-styled bishop.”
Like other men and women who get to be called “bishops,” Brian Tamaki had the title conferred on him by other leaders of his church in 2005. In this respect it makes no more sense to describe Pope Francis as a “self-styled pope.” Francis I may style himself “pope,” but like Bishop Tamaki, he also had the title officially conferred on him by other leaders of the Catholic church in 2013. Like “Bishop” Tamaki, “Pope” Francis shares his title with a number of contemporary contenders.
My guess is that the confusion comes from some expectation that “bishop” is an exclusively Catholic, Anglican or Orthodox term – that, somehow, unless you wear a purple shirt and/or a mitre, you don’t get to be called a bishop.
In fact, “bishop” comes to us from the New Testament viathe Old English word biscop. Philippians 1:1 and 1 Timothy 3:1-7 refer to church leaders called episkopoi in Greek (Old English biscop is just a rendering of the piskop in the Greek episkopos).
Episkopos is notorious difficult to translate, and its origins are uncertain. It may come from the non-religious world of the early Christian era, referring to someone in charge of a building site or other group activity. In this context it’s sometimes translated as “overseer” or “superintendent.” It may come from the Septuagint (a Jewish-Greek translation of the Old Testament), where Ezekiel is called to be a “watchman” or episkopos for the people of Israel (Ezekiel 33:3). Here the office is something more like a prophet.
Of course “bishop” could have both origins. Unfortunately, though, the New Testament doesn’t tell us much about what an episkopos does, except that, according to 1 Timothy at least, he should be of irreproachable character and the “husband of only one wife.”
In the two centuries following the Reformation, most Protestant churches wanted to abandon the term “bishop” because they associated it with what they regarded as the corruption of the medieval church. But Protestants were aware that episkopos was in the Bible, and so they experimented with translating it in different ways. They also experimented with what the office meant in practice (beyond being irreproachable and the “husband of only one wife”).
So, for example, John Knox’s Church of Scotland experimented with an office known as the “superintendent,” before abandoning after a few decades. Some modern Methodist churches still have leaders called “superintendents.” Other Methodists opt for the older translation of “bishop.” A lot of Protestant churches who don’t use either term would still argue that their leaders and ministers met the job-description of “oversight” or “watching” implied in the Biblical Greek.
Which is all a long way of saying that there isn’t a standard blueprint for what a “bishop” is, does or wears. There’s also no regulating body, patent office or copyright agency that gets to decide who can and can’t use the title “bishop.”
More broadly speaking, in a secular, liberal democracy, all religions deserve equal treatment under the law. So if I want to call myself the Dalai Lama, Pope or Jedi Master, the law has no interest in this. Nor, I think, does the secular media – except, perhaps, as a matter of curiosity.
But if I were to use my church’s money in ways that looked legally questionable, then both law and media would have an interest, and both would entitled to call me to account.
We are delighted to announce a call for papers for an exciting new volume being organized by Auckland TheoRel’s Caroline Blyth and Dr Alison Jack from New College School of Divinity at the University of Edinburgh. Murderous Texts: The Bible in Crime Fiction and Drama will be an edited volume of essays that will consider the complex ways the crime genre in literature, film, television, and theatre engage with biblical texts, stories, and themes. More details below!
Murderous Texts: The Bible in Crime Fiction and Drama
Call for papers
Religious themes and motifs have, for many years, been grist to the mill for creators of crime fiction and drama. In particular, the Bible has enjoyed a certain notoriety within the crime genre, where a biblical story, text, or motif serves as a thematic focus within the plotline to explore contemporary concerns of criminality, violence, and the search for justice. In Stieg Larsson’s novel The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2005), and its film adaptations (2009, 2011), a list of biblical passages hold the clue to identifying a ritualistic serial killer. An episode of ITV’s police drama Vera (‘A Certain Samaritan’, Vera, Series 2, 2012) retells the parable of the Good Samaritan, re-evaluating its significance within the context of a contemporary secular world. Norwegian crime writer Jo Nesbø cites a biblical passage (Isaiah 63.1) at the start of his 2005 novel, The Redeemer, using this as a starting point from which to explore the ethics of violence, retribution, and redemption, while in a scene from Ian Rankin’s first novel, Knots and Crosses (1987), police inspector John Rebus sits reading the book of Job, pondering its themes of suffering and divine justice in light of his own personal and professional traumas.
This frequent and fascinating engagement with the Bible in fictional crime texts (including novels, film, television, and theatre) deserves further investigation. Exploring the explicit and implicit use of biblical texts and themes offers insights into the multiple layers of meaning that may be present within the crime text itself, including the complex intersections understood to be present between violence and religion. Additionally, it also raises fascinating questions about the significance of the Bible as a religious and cultural text – its association with the culturally pervasive themes of violence, intolerance, guilt, and atonement, and its relevance as a symbol of the (often fraught) location that religion occupies within contemporary culture.
Despite this relative popularity of biblical themes and allusions in crime fiction and drama, there has been little sustained scholarly engagement with this subject to date. In our proposed volume, Murderous Texts: The Bible in Crime Fiction and Drama, we seek to redress this, bringing together interdisciplinary scholarship from the fields of biblical interpretation, literary criticism, and studies in film, television, and popular culture. We are therefore looking for contributors who are keen to explore the different ways cultural crime texts (including literature, film, television, and theatre) engage with biblical themes or traditions. Essays may consider explicit references to the Bible in these texts, or focus instead on their implicit biblical allusions, including explorations of biblical themes such as sin, redemption, and sacrifice. We are defining ‘literature’ broadly here to include both traditional novels and more contemporary literary forms, such as graphic novels and comic books.
Contributors should submit an abstract of their essay for this volume (c. 200-300 words) to the editors Caroline Blyth (c.blyth[at]auckland.ac.nz) and Alison Jack (A.Jack[at]ed.ac.uk) by 30 April 2016. Final essays should be 5000-6000 words in length and submitted by 31 December, 2016.
If you wish more information, or have any questions about the volume, please contact Caroline or Alison.
For our final advent offering of 2015, I thought I’d share some images of a gospel tradition that follows shortly after the story of the nativity. In Matthew 2.13-23, after the magi have paid their visit, God visits Joseph in a dream and tells him to take his family and flee to Egypt, as Herod intends to search for the child and kill him. This tradition has become very popular in art, with paintings from across the centuries showing these dramatic events as they unfold.
Often, artists have captured the family making this long and difficult journey, travelling through hostile territory, looking weary and unsure.
Other artists have added to the gospel traditions, showing the family taking a rest on the journey, perhaps to emphasise how long and tiring their travels were.
Mary is snoozing with Jesus in the embrace of a Sphinx!
Less often, we see the journey as it reaches its end, and the holy family arrive at their destination.
One of my favourite images of this gospel tradition, however, has to be this modern take by Russian artist Ivan Korshunov.
I love this visual interpretation of the story – Mary and Joseph are depicted as strong, confident characters, content in the knowledge that they are going to outrun any dangers that are snapping at their heels. On their motorcycle, they have speed and power. Mary smiles contentedly, her limbs wrapped around Joseph in a gesture of both comfort and desire. Even the infant Jesus seems blissfully unaware of his surroundings, snugly sheltering on his mother’s back. This is a family of refugees that exudes contentment and care, looking ahead to the safety of the life that awaits them in a new land, far away from Herod’s grasp.
Well, that’s it for 2015. From all of us at the Auckland Theology and Religion blog, health and happiness to you and yours over this festive period and we look forward to sharing more with you on the blog in 2016.
With only two sleeps to go, today’s penultimate Advent offering brings us another beautiful image of the nativity, capturing the moment when the shepherds come to pay homage to the infant Jesus. The artist, N.C. Wyeth, uses light and darkness to great effect here, bringing a sense of wonder to the scene. As the shepherds crowd into the dark space of the byre, the only light source seems to be the infant Jesus himself, whose tiny sleeping body is emanating a warm glow that brightens his mother’s face and radiates towards those who draw near to him.
Back tomorrow for our final Advent offering – see you then.
With only three sleeps to go ’til Christmas, we move from yesterday’s annunciation to the shepherds to another iconic image from the nativity – the adoration of the magi, who follow a star from the East until it alights on the place that they will find Jesus. Now, according to Matthew 2.1-12, it’s likely these magi visited the newborn Jesus a little while after his dramatic birth in the manger, yet this is usually the location in which artists like to portray them. Another artistic tradition is that, typically, three magi are depicted; the gospels do not say how many of these ‘wise men’ there were, only that they brought three expensive gifts – gold, frankincense and myrrh. For all we know, there could have been many more. Which is why I find today’s Advent offering so interesting, as it chooses to eschew artistic traditions and offer us a glimpse of the other possibilities for this rather splendid visitation.
In Domingos Sequeira’s beautiful work, Mary, Joseph, and the infant Jesus are standing out in what appears to be a public thoroughfare, rather than in the manger where Mary gave birth. Above them shines that star with a near-blinding brightness; and it appears to have guided a whole host of magi to see this special baby. If you look closely at this image (and you can enlarge it here), you quickly lose count of how many magi-like figures are jostling to meet the holy family, carrying their gifts and paying obeisance. There are also many others present too, including women and children, who have perhaps come out to see these rather exotic visitors. And, in the midst of all the melee, the infant Jesus is ignoring everything that’s going on and staring rather sweetly at the shiny star that continues to hover over his head.
Back tomorrow for our penultimate Advent image for 2015.