Latest news with #OldTestament
Boston Globe
a day ago
- General
- Boston Globe
Walter Brueggemann, theologian who argued for the poor, dies at 92
His best-known book was 'The Prophetic Imagination' (1978), which has sold more than 1 million copies, according to Publishers Weekly. But there were dozens of others, including collections of his sermons and guides to studying the Old Testament. Dr. Brueggemann's work, while little known to the general reading public, is widely used in seminaries. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up Jim Wallis, a progressive evangelist and theologian who heads Georgetown University's Center on Faith and Justice, said in an interview that Dr. Brueggemann was 'our best biblical scholar of the prophets -- and he became one himself.' Advertisement 'There are court prophets, prophets who just speak to what the king wants them to say,' Wallis said, 'and then there are the biblical prophets who speak up for the poorest and most marginal.' Dr. Brueggemann, he said, was akin to the second kind. Born to a pastor in the Evangelical and Reformed Church, an ancestor of the latter-day United Church of Christ, Dr. Brueggemann grew up in modest circumstances. His grandparents were Prussian immigrants, and his family arrived in the Midwest via New Orleans. He remained an active member of the church throughout his career, speaking frequently at conferences. Advertisement A small-town Missouri boyhood baling hay and working at service stations gave him a natural sympathy for the underdog, Conrad Kanagy wrote in 'Walter Brueggemann's Prophetic Imagination: A Theological Biography' (2023). Dr. Brueggemann's reading of Scripture was unusually pointed and critical of establishment churches, shaped by what Kanagy called his 'German evangelical Pietism.' 'The contemporary American church is so largely enculturated to the American ethos of consumerism that it has little power to believe or to act,' Dr. Brueggemann wrote in 'The Prophetic Imagination.' For him, Yahweh, the God of the Hebrew Bible, is 'a real character and an active agent,' he said in a lecture in 2023 -- a God that is disappointed in mankind's failings and yet promises 'a new world that is possible.' In 'The Prophetic Imagination,' Dr. Brueggemann drew a sharp contrast between this God and the gods of the empire. The God of Moses, he wrote, 'acts in his lordly freedom' and 'is extrapolated from no social reality.' Unlike pharaoh's gods -- who were invented to legitimize power and preserve the status quo -- Yahweh disrupts it, calling people toward justice, liberation, and hope. Yahweh 'is captive to no social perception but acts from his own person toward his own purposes,' Dr. Brueggemann wrote. 'At the same time,' he added, 'Moses dismantles the politics of oppression and exploitation by countering it with a politics of justice and compassion.' For Dr. Brueggemann, Kanagy wrote, 'the biblical text was meant to be a free document that told the story of a free God who related to a free people past and present.' Advertisement The church's role thus seemed clear to the theologian. 'The task of prophetic ministry is to nurture, nourish and evoke a consciousness and perception alternative to the consciousness and perception of the dominant culture around us,' Dr. Brueggemann wrote. It was, in his view, the church's role not to reinforce established social realities but to question systems of power and inequality at every turn -- just as, say, the church leaders of the American Civil Rights Movement had done by invoking Scripture to confront racism and injustice. A passage in the Book of Jeremiah had a particular impact on Dr. Brueggemann, Kanagy wrote. God says: 'To care for the poor and the needy, is this not to know me?' according to Jeremiah. Understanding these words 'was a crystallizing moment for Walter, as he recognized that the text did not say, if one has knowledge of God, then they will care for the poor,' Kanagy wrote. 'Or that if one cares for the poor, they will get knowledge of God. Rather, it simply declares that 'the care of the poor is knowledge of God.'' Dr. Brueggemann taught generations of seminarians, first at Eden Theological Seminary in St. Louis and then in Decatur. On a blackboard, he would lay out patterns and repetitions of biblical text for his students. 'He was famous among students for jumping up on tables, mimicking the Almighty, and doing just about anything to help students make connections with the text,' Kanagy wrote. Walter Albert Brueggemann was born March 11, 1933, in Tilden, Neb., the youngest of three sons of August and Hilda (Hallman) Brueggemann. He grew up in rural parsonages in Nebraska, Kansas, and Missouri, according to his website, but mostly in Blackburn, Mo., where his high school had 30 students and one shelf of books, which he 'read and read again,' Kanagy wrote. Advertisement He received a Bachelor of Arts from Elmhurst College (now Elmhurst University) in Illinois in 1955; a bachelor's in divinity from Eden Theological Seminary in 1958; a doctorate of theology degree from Union Theological Seminary in Manhattan in 1961; and a doctorate in education from Saint Louis University in 1974. He taught at Eden from 1961 to 1986 and also served as dean there. He became a professor of the Old Testament at Columbia in 1986 and retired in 2003. He leaves his second wife, Tia (Ehrhardt) Brueggemann; two sons, James and John; and five grandchildren. His first marriage, to Mary Bonner Miller, ended in divorce in 2005. Throughout his career, Dr. Brueggemann called for a questioning of, and a pushing back against, the status quo, with a focus on those on the margins of society. 'It was a biblical matter for him, to be ignoring the poor while rewarding the rich,' Wallis of Georgetown said. 'We will not understand the meaning of prophetic imagination unless we see the connection between the religion of static triumphalism and the politics of oppression and exploitation, " Dr. Brueggemann wrote in 'The Prophetic Imagination.' He added, 'It is the marvel of prophetic faith that both imperial religion and imperial politics could be broken.' This article originally appeared in
Newsroom
3 days ago
- Politics
- Newsroom
Number is up for error-ridden NZ census – so what fills the data void?
Analysis: Since early in the Old Testament, leaders have counted their population. Sometimes to raise taxes, sometimes to raise an army. They counted the men, their wives and children, their donkeys, goats and sheep … Indeed, the fourth book of the Christian Bible is named 'Numbers', because it starts and finishes with God ordering censuses of the Israelites. Well, Statistics Minister Shane Reti may not be God, but he has now ordered an end to the NZ census. The census is a comprehensive record dating back to 1851, when the colonial Government also saw fit to count the numbers of citizens and their sheep (233,043) and cattle (34,787) … though it didn't count Māori. There's something simple and comforting about totting up numbers like that. It lacks the nuance and sophistication of randomised surveys and other statistical data collections tools; it's something we can all understand and trust. That will be a problem for Reti, with his announcement that the Government is doing away with the census. 'This approach will save time and money while delivering more timely insights into New Zealand's population,' he says. He points out that the cost of conducting the five-yearly census has risen 'astronomically' from $104 million in 2013, to $325m in 2023. If the 2028 census had gone ahead, it was expected to come in at $400m. Instead, Statistics NZ will measure New Zealand, New Zealanders and those visiting here (not to mention our sheep and cattle) using other tools. Specifically, so-called administrative data – which is information about us that's already collected by other agencies, including Immigration NZ, Inland Revenue, the Ministry of Social Development, Health NZ, ACC, schools and the courts. That will be rounded out by regular smaller surveys of no more than 5 percent of the population each year. Now, pollsters have got extremely good at designing survey questions, quizzing samples of the population, correcting for all sorts of demographic imbalances, and then extrapolating from those findings to the wider population. But as we know from every election campaign, those polls are closely scrutinised by politicians, spin doctors, the media and the wider population. The slightest aberration is seized on as evidence of the unreliability of polling. This has always been the case, but in the last few years official information has faced its own challenge. There are large numbers of people, here and overseas, who have become intuitively suspicious of governments, their institutions, and their science and data. So Stats NZ (which already commissions some surveys) now faces a trust problem. It must now persuade New Zealanders and international stakeholders to trust official statistics that are extracted from administrative data (which will feel intrusive to many) and from surveys (which will feel feel opaque and unreliable to many more). It's been coming for a long time, but nonetheless, this is a bad time to drop the census. This is a post-truth era when New Zealand and the world need facts they can trust. But Stats NZ's trust problem is not just the local manifestation of worldwide culture wars; it's also a problem directly of Stats NZ's own making. It's botched two censuses in succession. In 2018, the shift towards online data at the expense of field operations delivered far lower-than-expected response rates and data quality concerns, particularly for Māori and Pacific populations. Government Statistician Liz MacPherson was forced to tender her resignation. Then her successor, Mark Sowden, quit after two damning reports into the misuse of 2023 census data for party political purposes. After Sowden's departure, former Inland Revenue deputy commissioner Mary Craig picked up the poisoned chalice of Stats NZ chief executive and Government Statistician, as least on an acting basis. Like Reti, she's fronting a decision that was made by others, but she's putting a brave face on it. 'This is an exciting and necessary change,' she says. 'The traditional way of running a nationwide survey on census day can no longer be justified, due to rising costs, declining survey response rates, and disruption from events, like Cyclone Gabrielle in 2023.' She and Reti are right that the pace of policy-making requires information that is updated more than once every five years – though, to be fair, most of that data is already available, subject to compliance with the Privacy Act. Newsroom asked Sean Broughton, Stats NZ's population and housing statistics spokesperson, how New Zealanders can be confident that their information is being treated properly, and that the statistical reporting remains robust. 'As you say, the enduring challenge of maintaining New Zealander's trust and confidence is paramount,' Broughton acknowledges. 'Stats NZ is committed to building trust and reassuring New Zealand that we will protect the privacy and security of their information.' Laws and policies guide how Stats NZ protects and manages data, including the Privacy Act and the Data and Statistics Act. 'There are strict privacy, security, and confidentiality rules in place.' As for the reliability of the reporting, a cross-government chief executive group will lead and support the collective effort to improve admin data, Broughton says. Internal and external governance structures will be put in place that provide appropriate technical and governance oversight. That's critical, because official statistics are not only of curiosity value. They inform the Government where to invest $200 billion of infrastructure capital over the next 20 years – housing, schools, hospitals, climate change mitigation and adaptation … And as former Government Statistician Len Cook points out, they help us understand the dynamics of land use changes. For instance, those sheep numbers (233,043 in 1851) had risen to 76 million in 1976, but have now fallen back to 23 million. That means farmers moving off their land; school rolls falling; rural economies stagnating. Why is this? And is it a healthy evolution towards a lower carbon, high-tech economy – or is it a problem that governments and communities need to address? There is enormous variability in the drivers of population change and age structure among different local and national communities. The interaction between policy and population change is weakly understood. Writing for Newsroom, Cook warns of a coming 'population storm' for which we may now be ill-prepared. 'Falling fertility, rising life expectancy and volatile migration flows mean that the fiscal impact of demographic change from static policy settings will have the same effect as a fall in government revenue of over 30 percent by 2045,' he says. 'Almost all publicly funded services will face pressures of a far greater magnitude than we are currently seeing. Without regular knowledge we can trust, we will have little information to plan with.' Reti calls the statistics changes 'getting back to basics' – but to many, these contemporary data collection tools won't feel so 'basic' as simply counting everyone in the country. Persuading them to trust this new data? That's a task of Biblical proportions.
Times
4 days ago
- Health
- Times
Clappers, colonies and poisoned wells: a surprising history of leprosy
'What strange ideas people have about leprosy, doctor,' a character wonders in Graham Greene's 1960 novel A Burnt-Out Case, set in a Congolese leper colony. 'They learn about it from the Bible, like sex,' the doctor replies wearily. There's a great deal of historical truth in this wry exchange, the journalist Oliver Basciano tells us in this wide-ranging, globetrotting survey of the disease. Leprosy makes its literary premiere in Leviticus. In the Old Testament, those stricken with tzaraath are unclean and unworthy, deserving of ostracism as well as charity. The coinage lepra — scaly, in the manner of a snake — we owe to the Alexandrian Jewish scribes who translated the Hebrew Bible into Greek. But in the New Testament and later in the Middle Ages leprosy was regarded as a divine blessing. Basciano's chapter on medieval leprosy is the most arresting of this book. Living with leprosy was deemed akin to suffering in purgatory. At death, then, the leper could expect an easy passage to Heaven.
Yahoo
12-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Donald Trump Ducks ‘Les Misérables' Character Question, Internet Brutally Answers It For Him
Donald Trump hit a flat note Wednesday when pressed on 'Les Misérables,' the musical he's long praised as one of his favorites. Appearing on the red carpet ahead of a performance of the show at the Kennedy Center — the typically bipartisan institution which Trump has purged and controversially made himself chair — the president was asked by a reporter: 'Have you seen the musical before and do you identify more with Jean Valjean or Javert?' Valjean, the heroic protagonist, seeks redemption after 19 years in prison for stealing bread. Police inspector Javert, meanwhile, is utterly obsessed with law, order and punishment. Trump dodged the question. 'That's a tough one. The last part of that question, that's tough, I think,' he said, before turning to his wife, first lady Melania Trump, and saying: 'You better answer that one, honey.' 'I don't know,' he added. 'I've seen it, we've seen it a number of times. It's fantastic. I thought it was just about our first choice. That's why we got, and we have others coming — other great ones are coming.' Watch here: Reporter: Do you identify more with Jean Valjean or Javert?Trump: That's tough. I don't know — Acyn (@Acyn) June 11, 2025 Trump's answer — or lack of one — quickly drew mockery on social media. Some critics compared it to when Trump dodged a question about his favorite Bible verse. Others asked if he actually knew the 'Les Mis' story at all. Many suggested he definitely identified as Javert. There's no way he knows either one of them. — Decoding Fox News (@DecodingFoxNews) June 11, 2025 Editor's note. Trump doesn't know who either Valjean or Javert are! — Janice Hough (@leftcoastbabe) June 12, 2025 He doesn't know who they are 😂 — Kathy (@gallymeroreboot) June 12, 2025 Reminds me of 'tell us your favorite Bible verse'... — Lib Dunk (@libdunkmedia) June 11, 2025 This reminds me of the time Trump was asked by the Christian Broadcasting Network in 2015 if he preferred reading the New Testament or Old Testament and his answer made it clear he didn't know the difference and never cracked open either in his life. — Ron Filipkowski (@RonFilipkowski) June 12, 2025 Javert, he is Javert — Geffrey Klein (@gyndok) June 12, 2025 "Which one puts kids in jail? I like that guy." — AbstractThreats (@Dreamtwister6) June 12, 2025 He's Javert if Javert was chasing Valjean for decades because he made fun of his spray tan. — Elias Toufexis (@EliasToufexis) June 12, 2025 Trump identifies with Javert — Brown Eyed Susan (@smc429) June 11, 2025 Well we know it's not Valjean… or right, it doesn't have a clue. — Lisa (@LisaMK2021) June 12, 2025 Do you identify with:A ex criminal who spent 19years trying to redeem the guy who became so obsessed with morals and law he lost sight of the morals and law he sought to hard. — Bad Elk Tales (@DarkelkTales) June 12, 2025 Valjean stole bread to survive. Trump stole power to stay out of prison. Not the same, bro. — Nikos Unity (@nikosunity) June 11, 2025 Critics Expose The Massive Constitutional Flaw In Trump's Latest Threat Maggie Haberman Sounds Alarm On How Trump Could Still Cling To Power After 2028 'Absolutely Despicable' Trump-Troops Rally Moment Sends Chill Down Critics' Spines Seth Meyers Shreds Trump's 'Les Misérables' Visit With A Show-Stopping Punch Line
Spectator
11-06-2025
- General
- Spectator
In praise of camels
Laikipia, Kenya For decades now I have kept only cattle, goats and sheep on the farm, but for the first time this week, we have a herd of dromedaries browsing in the valley. To see these beautiful creatures moving through the acacia woodland is a pleasure – and I reckon a shrewd move on my part. Camels nibble back the thick bush, which allows the pasture to sprout in the sunshine, which is good for my cows. Camels bellow yet smell sweet. They have rabbit lips with which they lovingly nibble your collar, big giraffe eyes and long, tarty eyelashes. Camels let down their milk long after cattle udders have shrivelled up in a drought. Goats are hardy but nibble bushes to the stump, whereas sheep tear grass out by the root and seek any excuse to die. A camel tends to browse only the higher branches, its soft-padded feet do not scour the ground and erode the soil like a cattle track, and it can survive for three weeks without going to water. 'A camel man is a man,' the Somali nomads say, 'but a goat man is half a man – and a cow man is no man at all.' Cyclical droughts in East Africa have been killing ever more cattle, leaving pastoralists destitute and forcing them to the margins of towns to find work as night guards, corner boys and hustlers. These youngsters are often out of sorts and, being from the poorest communities, few have the chance of an education that will help them in life. They are disinclined to take up hoe or spade and they can become angry at the modern world. Yet they are the sons of Africa's best stockmen, who for centuries bred the finest humped Boran cattle, fat-tailed Blackhead Persian sheep worthy of an Old Testament sacrifice and the superb, snow-white Galla goat. Some of the camel herds on the farm now are Somalis, and the Somalis are the greatest of camel men, whose poetry focuses on about three things – love, war and camels. The Somalis joke that the camel was the last animal created by Allah, who in his fatigue stuck the head of a giraffe on to a body with a lion's skin and then, as it shuffled away, he threw the organ of a man at the camel's rear so that it stuck on backwards. There are more camels in Somalia than anywhere on Earth and many have spilled over into Kenya, providing a diet of meat, very healthy milk and an excellent method of transport. Even their hair can be used for weaving – as anybody knows after sleeping under a Bactrian blanket from Mongolia. Having camels on the farm awakens happy memories. My father was obsessed by camels. He made many journeys on them across Africa and Arabia's bone-strewn deserts. In the second world war, he led a band of camel scouts on the coast of the Bab el-Mandeb Strait and spotted a surfacing Italian submarine, the Galileo Galilei, which was then captured by the Royal Navy. At my childhood home, the place was piled with camel bells, stirrups and saddles, Afar knives, the smell of sand, rancid butter, commiphora resins and tribal leather. When he was off to the Sahel he insisted on interrupting French lessons with my astonished tutor. 'Les hommes soufflent dans le vagin du chameau pour voir si elle est enceinte!' The Somalis are the greatest of camel men, whose poetry focuses on about three things – love, war and camels In his eighties Dad teamed up with my elder brother Kim to persuade Maasai pastoralists in the borderlands between Kenya and Tanzania to begin raising camels, since there was none there. Decades later as one drives through that country, the place teems with them. Kim and Dad had a camp near a dry riverbed, and after a day out herding with the pastoralists we would build a fire, slaughter a goat, eat together and sleep in a circle around the dying embers. Sometimes there was little food and we lived on tea and chapatis – and, when we ran out of flour, just a bag of dried onions. On a long walk when our camels bolted with the baggage after they got spooked by a lion or a puff adder, we relied on water from puddles soupy with filth. We improvised tea by brewing up a concoction made from a local Maasai shrub and we treated the water with wood ash to flocculate the muck and offset the tang of cow dung. Tasting it with a loud smacking of his lips, Dad said contentedly: 'Ah, well. As the Arabs say, life is like a cucumber. One day it's in your hand, the next it's up your arse.' Life in 2025 is like a cucumber in all ways, I think, as I listen to the camels bellowing at nightfall a little distance from where I am writing this.
