What does Scripture mean by “fulfillment”? In the reading “Scribes of the Kingdom,” Jesus is described as the fulfillment “because he realizes in himself the whole of God’s work in Israel.” The author points out how Matthew describes God’s lament over Israel’s faithfulness in reference to Jesus. The quote from Hosea says “When Israel was a child, I loved him, out of Egypt I called my son. The more I called them, the farther they went from me…” (Hos 11:1-2). These words are often seen as a form of fulfillment, but they reference something that happened in the past. How can you await the fulfillment of something that has already happened? In this sense, you have to view the events as almost predictors of the others. The deliverance from exile in Exodus will later be fulfilled on a broader/ deeper scale by the deliverance in the New Testament that is begun by John the Baptist and Jesus. And so, when Matthew cites Hosea (“Out of Egypt I have called my son”), these words do in fact indicate something awaiting fulfillment. Therefore, we can read in Scripture the fulfillment of events that have already happened. It’s not so much that the events are repeated, but rather they sort of “set the stage” for events to come, or events to be fulfilled.

The opening chapters of both Matthew and Luke address various elements of the narrative of the Old Testament. The first element that the books reference is that of the elect. The birth of Jesus signifies the perfection of the elect as a culmination of the long line of God’s “chosen ones” (“Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham,” Mt. 1:1). In the reading “The Genealogy of Matthew,” the author points out how the lineage presented leads up to Jesus, rather than moving from him. This list further emphasizes Jesus’s significance and his role as the perfect elect. The genealogy also notably includes the four foreign women who played a big role in the OT. In doing this, Matthew emphasizes the growth of the Church under a “new Israel.” Mary is also comparable to these women. She’s not an outsider, but if she had been labelled as an adulterer (as she appeared to be) she would have been treated as one. Instead, she is chosen as a vessel for God’s blessings, similar to the women mentioned before. In drawing the significant narrative elements from the OT into the new, Matthew and Luke show the reestablishment of the ideas that were brought forth in the OT and begin the story if their fulfillment.

In Numbers 14:43, Moses says to the Israelites, “‘Because you have turned away from the Lord, he will not be with you and you will fall by the sword.’” This is the basis of their condemnation. Because the ‘wilderness generation’ has lost their trust in the Lord, they must be condemned by him. If the purpose of these books and this journey is reconciliation between the Israelites and the Lord, then there must be a certain level of trust. Without that trust, the covenant cannot be entered into, and the reconciliation cannot be achieved. Moses’s condemnation stems from theirs. At this moment, he has failed in his job as a facilitator for reconciliation, and is therefore condemned.

Moses’s death is inevitable. For one thing, he is tainted from the events that happened at the end of Numbers. In Deuteronomy 5:26, the Israelites say “For what mortal has ever heard the voice of the living God speaking out of fire, as we have, and survived?” implying that Moses must die because of his direct dealings with the Lord. God tells him that he will not be able to cross the Jordan into the promised land. But why end the Pentatauch with this event? In some ways, this is the logical conclusion to this unit of the Bible. Moses is the last of the great prophets that dealt so closely with God, so his death concludes this series of men and therefore this unit of the Bible. Also, at this point, God has given his instructions to the Israelites (through Moses). This “phase” of the covenant/ reconciliation is done and it is time to move on to the next.

The end of Deuteronomy makes comments about how no prophet since Moses has dealt so directly with God (“Since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face” Deuteronomy 34:10). These comments show how broken the human relationship with God is at this point. It casts a ‘shadow of doubt’ over the book of Joshua, showing the inevitability of his people (and the people directly after him) to stray from the Lord (especially without a strong leader, as shown in Judges 2).

What is purity/ impurity? According to Douglas purity can be seen in both a physical sense and a symbolic sense. For our everyday purposes, we can view “purity” as a hygienic term relating to the absence of dirt. However, Douglas points out that we can actually connect the two meanings of purity. She says that “dirt is essentially disorder.” In other words, purity can be seen as everything functioning as it should be, or as everything being in its place. 

Why does God require the maintenance of purity? Douglas argues that “purity is the enemy of change,” so then why does God want us to follow the “purity rules”? The purity laws are a direct result of the fall from Genesis. If the story of Israel is told as a sort of reconciliation with God and humans, then these laws can be seen as a facilitator for that. In the beginning of the excerpt, Douglas says that impurity and purity are “positive contributions to atonement.” This claim shows God’s main intention with the purity laws: He wants us to be pure, as purity makes us complete, and “holiness is exemplified by completeness,” but purity cannot exist without impurity, and God needs the existence of impurity because that is how we as humans learn and grow. In order to reestablish our relationship with God through the covenant, God wants us to be pure so that we may receive Him.

What is the logic of the laws we encounter related to purity, specifically the food laws? The purity laws regarding food are simply an extension of God’s intentions as a whole. Douglas says that “the dietary rules merely develop the metaphor of holiness on the same lines.” Not only do these laws keep the Israelites more “pure” and in turn more complete/ holy, they also allow them to prove their devotion to God, which allows them to begin a gradual rebuild of their relationship with God through the covenant.

Who is God? Every religion, every individual even, has their own idea of who God is. In the article, Joseph Ratzinger discusses the naming of God in the Moses story and how that comes to define God. Ratzinger begins by discussing the different labels people have attributed to beliefs pertaining to the existence of (or nonexistence of) God: monotheism, polytheism, and atheism. He explains how each of these belief systems has some aspect that accepts the unity and uniqueness of the absolute. Ratzinger then goes on to discuss how God is defined in the Moses story. During the burning bush scene, God refers to Himself as “Yahweh.” Ratzinger says that the exact translation of this word isn’t exactly clear, but its roots suggest it could refer to “Being.” In this sense, the Israelites are creating their own name and image for God, providing a “starting point [for] Israel’s nationhood.” But Ratzinger also claims that the uncertainty about the meaning of the name could mean that it’s not necessarily a name – it’s a staple of the mystery that is God. Ratzinger continues by discussing how before this story, God was referred to as “El.” In this sense, people selected a personal God (one who is present and powerful wherever man is) over a local god (one who is locally defined and limited). In the end, Ratzinger concludes that, by naming Himself in the burning bush scene, God is “handing himself over to men in such a way that he can be called upon by them.” In other words, he is saying that “God is one of us.” This brings up a sort of paradox, but the basic idea is that, while on one hand God is a most powerful being, He is also one of us, with us and in us in whatever we do.

In the article, Anderson refers to a quote from Levenson that describes Joseph’s story as “the crescendo to the theme of the beloved son,” and when you look closely at the text, this is true. Anderson points out that the four themes of the “beloved son” story are surprise, cost, rivalry, and mystery. He then accounts how Joseph’s story fulfills each of these themes: there is surprise because Joseph is not expected to be the beloved son, as he is not the oldest; there is a cost because Joseph is sold into slavery by his brothers (which represents a sort of “death” for Joseph); there is rivalry between Joseph and his brothers; and there is mystery becaue it is unclear as to why exactly Joseph is the beloved son. As Anderson points out, there is also mystery in Jacob blessing Joseph’s sons, as this provides a second blessing for Joseph, and Jacob chooses makes a preference for the youngest son by blessing him with his right hand instead of his brother. 

But where does the planting silver cup fall within this narrative? Joseph does this as a sort of test: he wants to see if his brothers will betray Jacob’s favorite son again, or if they’ve changed. To his delight, his brothers (specifically Judah) prove that they have learned from their mistakes by protecting Benjamin. This allows for another aspect of the beloved son story: the forgiveness. Joseph is able to forgive his brothers for what they did to him because he sees that they are not the same people that they once were. This also provides the counter to Joseph’s previous death (the well). Joseph is able to be “reborn” as he rejoins his family and provides for them. The story as a whole is able to encapsulate all of the themes that are explored in Genesis.

The identity of Jacob’s assailant is a mystery, but Kass offers a number of suggestions for who he could possibly be. The first suggestion is the traditional view that the opponent is an angel. Some people think he is a symbol for Jacob’s conscience/ fears, but the physicality of the fight suggests that it is in fact a physical being. Others think that he could be a stand-in for Esau, or even more generally, a stand in for all of Jacob’s past struggles with men (“… the memories of all of Jacob’s previous strivings appear to be conflated and embodied, ready not only for revisiting, but for reenactment”). Later, Kass notes that the being’s “remark about daybreak has confirmed Jacob in his suspicion that he has faced a more-than-human adversary.” In short, Jacob realizes that the opponent he faces is not merely human. Kass suggests that the opponent could represent both man and God simultaneously, and the fight could represent the idea that all of Jacob’s past struggles with men have also been struggles with God.

As for who wins the fight, I don’t think either person necessarily “wins” in the traditional sense of the word. Kass points out how Jacob technically wins physically, as “the man could not overcome Jacob, at least not whilst fighting as a man.” But Kass makes the distinction that Jacob doesn’t necessarily win, he “prevails.” Since Jacob is physically strong, “he will learn his limitations only in contests with the divine.” Kass notes that most people would think that struggling against God would lead to punishment. However, it’s actually good that Jacob struggled, because “struggle or striving is vastly preferable to ignorance or indifference.” Jacob emerges from the fight with a new name – his “title of victory.” However, the opponent/ God also gains from this struggle. By begging for a blessing, Jacob “acknowledges both his own neediness and the higher standing of his opponent.” The assailant also gives Jacob a limp which “permanently slows” him and affects his progeny, reminding them of the power and position of the Lord.

In his essay, William Cavanaugh states that “the inability to define ‘religion’ has been called ‘almost an article of methodological dogma’ in the field of religious studies.” He explains how, for a long time (and even now), religion has been given various definitions, and then is weaponized based on those definitions in order to argue against it. To me, religion is simply a belief system held by an individual or group of people. I realize that this definition is very broad. Many times, the term “religion” is associated with belief in a god/deity/higher being. While this does fall under my definition of religion, it is not the only way to define it. As Cavanaugh points out, when religion is defined this broadly, many different belief systems may fall under it (the example that he discusses is nationalism). He explores the question of why people will label denominations such as Catholicism or Jehovah’s witnesses as religion, but won’t acknowledge the religious-like qualities of belief systems such as nationalism. Of course there are plenty of differences between these things, but I think the answer is quite clear. Because the term “religion” is often loosely defined (and its definition can be warped in many different ways), people are able to use it in pretty much whichever way they want. People will distinguish between religion in terms of God and religion in terms of, say, pride in one’s country because of the nature of secular systems of belief. Again, religion is often associated with belief in a god, so the secular belief that comes with nationalism falls outside of many people’s preconceived notions of what religion is. This allows “religion” in this sense to be labelled as something completely separate from more “intellectual” ideals (science, nationalism, etc.), when in fact, religion actually encompasses these belief systems and allows for them to be expanded upon.

Wilken begins this chapter with a quote from  Saint Augustine: “Nothing would remain stable in human society if we determined to believe only what can be held with absolute certainty” (162). This quote sets up the framework for what’s discussed in the rest of the chapter. Wilken first talks about Augustine’s argument for the ever presence of faith. Through a series of examples and analogies, Wilken shows how Augustine saw faith as “a constituent part of historical knowledge” (169). In short, since we were not there to witness major historical events, we have to rely on the accounts of people who were. We have to believe, or have faith in what they say. Wilken explains how belief is often based on a system of authority [“We owe our beliefs to authority” (170)]. He concludes that “without faith, that is, without confidence in the truthfulness of others, in Augustine’s language, without authority, ‘the sacred bond of the human race’ would be shattered” (171). Because we believe in these first hand accounts of history, and because we believe that these accounts have a certain authority about them, we are taking part in a sort of “faith.” This is just one of the many ways in which faith is unavoidable.

Wilken then goes on to explain the benefits of faith. One benefit that he touches on is the idea that faith brings us as a community together. It provides a shared experience among those who practice it [“…the truth that Christians confess is transmitted through other persons, through the Christian community, the church” (180)]. The main benefit that Wilken takes away from Augustine’s beliefs is that faith provides the basis for understanding, for a broader and deeper knowledge. He explains that “…obedience and love are closely aligned with faith” (182), concluding that “faith, then, is the way of reason” (184). Wilken ends the chapter with the idea that “It is only in giving that we receive, only in loving that we are loved, only in obeying that we know” (185). Wilken demonstrates how faith is borne out of love and obedience, which go hand in hand. This love and obedience provides the basis for a broader understanding of oneself and of the world around them.

Abraham agrees to this request because he had full trust in God. As Kass points out, Abraham had a couple of reasons to obey God as soon as God began speaking to him. God promises Abraham “land, seed, and a great name,” which were all appealing to Abraham. Abraham also had reasons to believe that this voice speaking to him was, in fact, God, even before God revealed His identity: the invisible voice is clearly intelligent, and it speaks to Abraham “not only personally but knowingly and with concern.” Abraham’s trust in and obedience to God is only solidified throughout Genesis 11-22, and it reaches its peak here. 

Abraham is not directly lying in 22:5 and 22:8, he is just not telling the whole truth. In 22:5, he says that he and his son will be worshipping. In a sense, this is true. Abraham will actually be worshipping; by being the sacrifice, Abraham’s son is also technically worshipping. In 22:8, Abraham says that God will provide the lamb for the sacrifice. Again, this is technically true. God told Abraham to sacrifice his son, and by doing this, God has provided the “lamb,” or offering, for the sacrifice. 

God wanted Abraham to carry out this request because he wanted to test his limits. He wanted to ensure that Abraham really was as devoted of a follower as he appeared to be. Arguments could be made on both sides as to whether or not Abraham is praiseworthy. On one hand, Abraham’s devotion to God could be praised for knowing no bounds; on the other hand, this kind of devotion could be looked down upon as Abraham was willing to intentionally kill his son. Similar arguments arise for whether or not God is praiseworthy in this situation. One could argue that God is praiseworthy because he should be as is in his nature as God, and because this was simply a test, and God would not actually allow Abraham to kill his son. But one could also argue that this is not praiseworthy because of the nature of the request itself.

Although the account of the first sin and the story Noah have very different premises and outcomes, they both present the same themes. Both stories deal with disobedience as a result of humans acting in the isolated pursuit of their own self interest. The differences in these stories further the development of the relationship between God and humans, and emphasize the breakdown in this relationship.

The basic idea of these two stories is that human beings will do things that are considered good for them, regardless of whether or not they are the right things to do. In the story of Adam and Eve, the first sin was committed out of a desire to be more like God. Although God gave Adam and Eve the explicit instruction not to eat from the tree and threatened punishment if they did, the two still chose to disobey God. The “knowledge” that the tree possessed – the ability to act as a moral agent – was something that the humans already possessed. But in their belief that this fruit would make them more god-like (and in turn give them all the qualities that come with that), they disobeyed the order and ate the fruit. And so, the story shows the breakdown in the humans’ relationship with God because they acted out of their own self interest instead of obeying God’s command. 

The story of Noah shows a similar dynamic. In this story, it is the entirety of humanity aside from Noah that is infected by their own self interest. Kass notes how, similarly to the first story, these people were corrupted because they did what was best for themselves, saying “what seems good in the eyes of men can be very far from what is truly good” (Kass 159). And so, God punishes the selfish humans and spares Noah, allowing humanity to “start over.” And so, both of these stories present the idea that humans are primarily self-interested, and in God’s reactions to this idea played out, they emphasize God’s intentions for humanity as a whole.