I picked this recipe up off of a web page somewhere; I'd give a link if I had one. But I don't, so here's the recipe:

1 clove garlic
1/2 tsp dijon mustard
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
salt/pepper to taste

Put garlic, mustard, and balsamic vinegar in a small container and let it sit for 10 minutes. On the mustard, the recipe recommended using the “country style” Grey Poupon. I went a step further and used Maille Old-Style “Whole Grain Dijon Mustard”.

After 10 minutes, remove the clove of garlic. I used minced garlic and just left it in there — but I like garlic. Add the olive oil. I'm assuming you're using a small container that you have a lid for. Seal the container and shake the mixture like crazy.

It's ready to use. I used some (no additional salt/pepper) on a Spinach/Feta/Pine Nut creation of mine, and whoa — I actually had seconds on salad. If you know me, and you know my history with salad, then you know that's saying something.

Note the proportions; this recipe should be easy to scale if necessary.

Update: Welcome, PunditGuy readers. I figured since someone linked to me, I should find the source of this recipe, so after a little digging, here it is. Enjoy! And have a look around. Here's a little about me and what this thing is all about. If you dig this sort of stuff, I'd recommend you check out some of the “Biblioblogs” listed in the blogroll to the right. Thanks! (and thanks, PunditGuy, for the link!)

In his book The Reformation: A History, Diarmaid MacCulloch writes:

Calvin's preaching represented an intensive examination of the details of God's Word that few other expositors would equal, sucking the last drops of meaning from every last syllable and turn of phrase: 189 sermons on Acts between 1549 and 1554, 174 on Ezekiel form 1552 to 1554, and 200 on Deuteronomy in 1555 to 1556. This could be liberating to an audience precisely because it was so demanding. Calvin and the preachers who followed him asked a lot of their audience and were thus taking them seriously as adults in the faith. Reformed congregations were expected to absorb and understand complex and abstract material and therefore were encouraged to see the value of education. (MacCulloch 239)

This sort of demanding teaching is missing in the church today. Are the sermons you suffer through listen to demanding and challenging, or are they merely platitudinous and thus lacking practicality or applicability?* Is the text itself examined and wrestled with, or is the text referred to simply as a starting point for some sort of tangential “deep thought” that somehow makes everyone listening feel better?

Christians are capable of critical thinking; the intelligence of a fair portion of those assembled for the teaching is insulted when preachers/teachers simply shoot for a lowest common denominator. Do pastors today make demands of their congregants similar to those described above? Are sermons just to be listened to, or are they to be understood?

Calvin had his problems (yes, you heard me say that — now get up off the floor!) but in his favor, he strove to work though the text, understand it and apply it and teach others what was in the Scripture. His commentaries are still valuable to consult today because of this drive.

Too often (and I'm guilty of this) important arguments (either supporting or contradicting) are dulled or glossed over because of concern over the ability of the students/congregants/whomever to understand. Instead of being cause to skip over something, this should be cause to slow down and examine the issue in greater detail, working through the seemingly tough problem so that those on the receiving end can — with some work and effort, don't get me wrong — come to an understanding of what's going on.

The problem has many sides. Passivity on the part of the student/congregant is a real problem. I have no silver-bullet solution for it. But what motive does one have to break free from passivity if one is not challenged?

Ok, I've ranted enough. You may now return to your normally-scheduled blog reading.

* Clarification: I'm not speaking of the teaching in the church I currently attend, though I have in the past “suffered through” some truly horrible sermons. I've dutifully forgotten their content though I do have memories of their occurrence.

There are too many good books to read (and study) and not enough time. Just this week I received the final drop from an order I placed with Peter Lang at SBL (two books). And then I see the latest Review of Biblical Literature (thanks to NT Gateway Weblog). One of the books I've been waiting for has been reviewed, and this only makes me want to read it more.

The book is Dr. Charles E. Hill's The Johannine Corpus in the Early Church. Dr. Hill was a professor at Northwestern College when I was there, and I had the pleasure of taking a few classes that he taught. The most enjoyable (and frustrating) was of course first-year Greek. We studied Attic Greek using the ATHENAZE books. I also took a class on the Johannine literature that he taught.

Anyway, this latest book looks to be well worth reading. Only it's from Oxford, and it's $150.00 — more than I like to spend on a single title. I guess this one is going on the 'buy at SBL' list (assuming I'm able to go to Philadelphia for the 2005 meeting) unless someone else can suggest a method for getting Oxford titles on the cheap. Again, please realize I'm a bibliomaniac and while I may be able to get the title via interlibrary loan, the problem is returning it — I wouldn't want to let it go.

This brings me to a general question: How do folks attack reading lists? Obviously you're reading some stuff and you're doing well at working your way through it. How does one go about selecting and then diligently working through them in light of all the other responsibilities of your daily routine?

I have my own ways of doing this, but I've got too many books and too little time. Apart from “read faster” (which means I'd end up understanding less of what I'm reading) or perhaps “remove distractions” (which goes without saying and is easy for a single guy like me) I'm looking for some hints on how to be a bit more efficient with my time.

I see from a post at Marginal Revolution that Dr. Robert Heilbroner has passed away due to an extended illness.

This brings back memories.

In my heady undergrad days, one assignment given in an econ class was to write a letter to an actual, living, breathing economist and ask him questions about stuff.

This was in the early 90's (1991?). Balanced budgets were all the rage; the phrase “Gramm-Rudman” was known by many who weren't into politics or economics (oh that we could be in a similar place now ... Phil Gramm, please do something!). I was a balanced budget zealot. So I chose to send a letter to Dr. Heilbroner asking him how in the world one could advocate deficit spending as a viable fiscal policy.

Not too long after I sent the letter, I received a handwritten response (on a postcard) from Dr. Heilbroner. I'm fairly sure I still have it; I'll see if I can dig it out of my old college papers tonight and post an image of it here sometimes over the next few days. I don't remember exactly what Dr. Heilbroner wrote, but it did have the effect of calming me down a bit.

Update: I went home for lunch, and took a quick look in my old stacks. I found the letter immediately. I had (most likely for a class) finished reading The Debt and the Deficit by Dr. Heilbroner and Peter Bernstein. The assignment to write to an economist came at about this point in time. According to the copy of the letter I sent him, I asked Dr. Heilbroner whether or not the government had a “moral obligation” to repay its debts.

Below are the front and back of the card he sent. The card is typewritten (not handwritten as I earlier mentioned) but is signed. I wrote my letter to him on November 25, 1991. His response is postmarked December 3, 1991. Clicking on either image will open a larger version of the graphic.

and the front of the card:

Note to you young'uns out there: This is how we did things before email (and blogs).

I'm working through 1Ti 3.1-7. I'm at the end of verse 2, specifically dealing with the term “hospitable” (φιλόξενος). In looking at non-Biblical citations of φιλόξενος, I came across Josephus, Life 1.141-142:

When, therefore, silence was made by the whole multitude, I spake thus to them:—“O my countrymen! I refuse not to die, if justice so require. However, I am desirous to tell you the truth of this matter before I die; for as I know that this city of yours [Taricheae] was a city of great hospitality, and filled with abundance of such men as have left their own countries, and are come hither to be partakers of your fortune, whatever it be, I had a mind to build walls about it, out of this money, for which you are so angry with me, while yet it was to be expended in building your own walls.” (Life 1.141-142, Whiston translation)

I got a chuckle because Josephus notes that Taricheae “was a city of great hospitality” and then essentially begs for them to spare his life, hoping their hospitality will kick in and save his skin.

Anyway, that's beside the point. After thinking about the above for a bit, and looking at the other occurrences of φιλόξενος in the NT (1Ti 3.2; Titus 1.8; 1Pe 4.9) and some instances in the Apostolic Fathers (1Cl 12.3, Hermas Mandates VIII.10, Similitudes IX.xxvii.2), I started to think about φιλόξενος in terms of citizenship; that it has to do with showing kindness of some degree to foreigners sojourning among a native population, at least in some sense. I don't want to narrow it to a citizenship context (as it does obviously mean “hospitable” or “hospitality” in a general sense in some of the above citations), but many of the above instances (particularly Josephus and 1Clement) are in that context.

Then I started thinking about the sense of citizenship of Heaven that occurs in the NT. There are two references in particular:

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit. (Eph 2.19-22)

But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. (Php 3.20-21)

This perspective also occurs in the Apostolic Fathers, particularly in the Epistle to Diognetus:  

But while they dwell in cities of Greeks and barbarians as the lot of each is cast, and follow the native customs in dress and food and the other arrangements of life, yet the constitution of their own citizenship, which they set forth, is marvelous, and confessedly contradicts expectation.  They dwell in their own countries, but only as sojourners; they bear their share in all things as citizens, and they endure all hardships as strangers. Every foreign country is a fatherland to them, and every fatherland is foreign. (EpDiog 5.4-5, Lightfoot)

So, my question is: When Paul includes φιλόξενος in lists of virtues describing qualities that should be evident in “overseers” (1Ti 3.2; Titus 1.8), could he, as he considers Christians to be citizens of the Kingdom, be desirous of overseers who show hospitality to all non-citizens of the Kingdom?

I realize the context in both 1Ti 3.2 and Titus 1.8 is general, so we have to interpret it generally in the sense of “hospitality” since that's as specific as the context gets. But I'd never considered this in light of heavenly citizenship espoused elsewhere in the NT. Does Paul simply require the overseers to be kind to strangers; or does this requirement have roots in a desire for the overseer to extend kindness to those who are not fellow-citizens of the Kingdom?

Looks like I've got a bad case of blogorrhea today. Oh well. I blame it on the snow. We had snow over Thursday night/Friday morning here in Bellingham. Here's the view off of my back deck this morning (around 8:00). There are probably 5-6” on the ground. Not much for folks from some areas, but a decent amount for us.

You'd be amazed at how much weather like this affects travel here in low-snow northwestern Washington. Though I don't mind driving in the snow (four years in northwestern Iowa will do that to you) I do mind the other crazies on the road who think that four-wheel drive makes them invincible to the laws of physics. Folks are either too cautious or too crazy — all in all a bad mix.

If the photo looks a little dark for 8 AM, it's because it was. The end of dawn combined with clouds and the fact that it was still snowing made sunlight scarce. We're in winter here in northwestern Washington, which means the daylight is in scant supply. It's dark (not dusk, but dark) at around 5:00 PM in the evenings. But we're past Dec. 21 which means the days are getting longer (yay!). We make up for it in the summer when it stays light until 9:00 or so in the evenings.

About a year ago, I ran across Mark Shea's The Lord of the Rings: A Source-Criticism Analysis. A friend reminded me of this by asking me if I still had the URL.

I did an URL search of Google and didn't see that any bibliobloggers had linked to it, so I figured I had to do my duty and post a link. Here's an excerpt:

Because The Lord of the Rings is a composite of sources, we may be quite certain that "Tolkien" (if he ever existed) did not "write" this work in the conventional sense, but that it was assembled over a long period of time by someone else of the same name. We know this because a work of the range, depth, and detail of The Lord of the Rings is far beyond the capacity of any modern expert in source-criticism to ever imagine creating themselves.

It's a quick read — it'll take 5 minutes or so. Enjoy!

Update: Jim Davila at PaleoJudaica picks up the ball and runs with it.

I noticed an unread comment in an earlier post of mine on Galaxie's Theological Journals (post dated 2004-11-28). The post noted how helpful the journals are in searching for recently written material having to do with a particular verse or issue. In the comment, John Kendall helpfully notes:

You might also find Al Wolters' paper helpful.

He then provides an URL to a PDF file that is, unfortunately, no longer valid. In poking around, the paper Mr. Kendall referred me to is an article in the 2000 edition of the Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism titled “A Semantic Study of αὐθέντης and its Derivatives”. I was previously unaware of this resource (I'm sure Marc Goodacre / et. al. have mentioned it, but I missed it anyway). It looks like my slackitude in checking for unread comments (I don't have any comment notification set up at present) strikes big-time. The 2000 edition of this journal is now in print (hardcover) at Sheffield Phoenix, but it is $70 for “Scholars Price” and $140 “List Price”. The PDF is no longer on the web site.

Blast. But the current volume (three articles thus far) does have PDF files online, so y'all might want to check it out.

Mr. Kendall — thanks for the recommendation anyway. I'll keep the bibliographic info and maybe I'll be able to consult it at some point in the future.

Update: Marc Goodacre did mention the journal, and not even a month ago (Dec. 14, 2004). Don't mind me folks, just keep movin' along.