How much time are you willing to give?

From the Curmudgucation blog:

I see this thread from time to time, this insistence on denying that students are bad at something. "No, you just weren't taught that well" or "Your teacher lacked the right tools" or "You are the victim of too-low expectations" or "You just needed more opportunities to master the material and concepts." Sometimes these ideas make it all the way into policy: if you are a teacher of a Certain Age, you may well remember sitting in a PD session in which you were told earnestly that "All can learn all."

No. Some students are bad at some things. This should not come as a surprise; all human beings are bad at something.

…

We have a finite number of hours to invest, and we all make choices about how to invest them. It's a weird brand of age-ism to imagine that students do not make similar choices. I don't believe in lazy students, but I absolutely believe in students who will sit in your class and make a rational decision that they do not want to invest the kind of time in your subject that judge would be necessary.

Go read the rest for the full scope of what he is saying. It's worth your time.

<idle musing>
Yep. Time and energy, as well as innate capabilities. In graduate school, with two kids, I had to budget my time, so at the beginning of each term, I decided which class I would settle for a B in. If I had the extra time after assuring an A in the other ones, then I would attempt for an A in that one too. I rarely did, and sometimes I didn’t get an A in some of the ones I was aiming for an A in.

And when it comes to Akkadian, I suck at the signs. Never could wrap my head around the multivalency of them. I enjoyed Hittite because the multivalency was much more limited and the sign list was manageable. I did fine in the grammar and reading of Akkadian once it was transliterated, but the signs? Yuck.

And when I was in engineering, before seeing the light and becoming a humanities major, I hit a brick wall in linear algebra. I just couldn't wrap my head around the concept of six, seven, or nine space. Matrices just blew my 20-year-old mind. Now, I understand the concept, but I'm forty-six years older…
</idle musing>

So, what's the answer?

Maybe you want to know the question first? What's the best way out of the current high degree of wealth inequality? The Atlantic takes a look at how we got where we are. Hint, it started back in the late 1970s, but the real problem was our response in the 1980s and beyond. Read the whole article for context. Please! Read the article. Here's the penultimate paragraph, but please read the whole article for context.

The answer to our unequal age lies not in better monetary policy. It lies in better fiscal and regulatory policy. The central bank has enormous influence, but primarily over borrowing costs and the pace of economic growth. The power to alter the distribution of wealth and earnings—as well as expand the supply of child care, housing, energy, and everything else—lies with Congress. It could spend huge sums of money to hasten the country’s energy transition and make it less vulnerable to gas-price shocks. It could overhaul the country’s system of student-loan debt, helping Black families build wealth. It could break up monopolies and force companies to compete for workers and market share again. It could task states and cities with increasing their housing supplies, so that regular families could afford apartments in Queens and houses in Oakland and condo units in Washington, D.C. It could implement labor standards that would mean the middle class could afford to buy into the stock market too. Yet it remains hamstrung by the filibuster, and by a minority party dedicated to upward redistribution.

Strawberries!

OK, one strawberry, but it is the promise of more to come. I picked our first strawberry of the season yesterday, and it reminded me of why fresh strawberries, not even an hour from the plant, are the best. We'll get another one today and for the next few days until the main bunch starts ripening. Meanwhile, we savor that one strawberry each day.

I also picked the first peas of the season yesterday. A handful of them and more will be ready each day. The second crop, from a slightly later variety will come in when the first plants are done. And the snow peas will be starting soon, too.

Meanwhile, I've been chomping down on fresh chard and radishes for a couple of weeks now. The kale is pickable, but I'm trying to use up the stuff I have frozen from last year, so I'm letting it get bigger.

And the raspberries are blooming and the bumblebees and honey bees are thoroughly enjoying them. You walk by the patch and you can hear their contented buzzing.

And, something I forgot in the initial posting, I've been enjoying summer pita sandwiches, consisting of broccoli raab, chard, chive blossoms, and Mustard Girl garlic mustard. Delicious and the sure sign that summer is here!

About those celebrity bookshelves

Via Publishers Weekly, an article on books by the yard, from The Millions: "Is It So Wrong to Accessorize with Books?"

I had read about it a few years back, but it seems to be a real thing now.

Not sure what I think, but I lean toward this sentiment: “But this kerfuffle is not about the use—or misuse—of books as fashion accessories, home décor, or branding tools. Call me Pollyanna, but I don’t think that Ashley Tisdale and Dior and Gigi Hadid are trivializing books. They’re doing precisely the opposite: they’re reminding us of books’ outsize power to shape our perceptions of their owners. You want to understand someone? Peruse the contents of her medicine chest, her garbage can, and her bookshelf. One’s literary tastes can reveal not just aesthetic preferences but aspects of character. This is because of the investment books require—not only of money, but of time and psychic energy.”

Or, as I read many years ago, our bookshelf tells people what we want them to think we are. I hope my bookshelves do more than that, though. I hope they are an actual reflection of who I am—or am trying to become anyway. I certainly don’t read Ethiopic or Coptic, and my Syriac is terrible, but maybe someday… that’s what those books on my shelf are for. They beckon me and someday, someday, yes someday I will answer the call. Or at least, I hope I do.

Train up a conscience…

OK, an intentional misquote of the proverb.

Not sure where I ran across this link, so if you’ve seen it, apologies, but it is well-worth your time. The title of the post doesn't do it justice: Secret Tentative Intimation

For me, these two paragraphs/lines were the heart of it:

What I learned from my time at Guantanamo is that the time to deliberate, seek advice, and reflect for long periods of time in prayer so that we have a conscience that can stand on solid footing “just when it matters” exists only ahead of time, when one can’t foresee the curveballs. Conscience is, after all, not a rabbit one can suddenly pull out of a magic hat. It is something that must be cultivated and developed over time so that it is available and ready to go when one of those “just when it matters” moments comes our way.

and

Textbooks are important, but we cannot expect them to do the long, hard work of awakening and forming the consciences of the young (and the not-so-young as well). Our Catholic [and not just Catholic!] institutions need to prepare students for real life, not just for careers. There will always be curveballs.

I’ve run across a few curveballs in my life, and only by God’s grace gotten through them. And I firmly believe it was because of intentional cultivation of an internal spiritual life training me to depend on God. I’ve still got a long way to go on that, but God is patient, even when I’m not!

Plant a garden!

This excerpt from Braiding Sweetgrass stands on its own and is too good not to post:

People often ask me what one thing I would recommend to restore relationship between land and people. My answer is almost always, “Plant a garden.” It’s good for the health of the earth and it’s good for the health of people. A garden is a nursery for nurturing connection, the soil for cultivation of practical reverence. And its power goes far beyond the garden gate—once you develop a relationship with a little patch of earth, it becomes a seed itself.

Something essential happens in a vegetable garden. It’s a place where if you can’t say “I love you” out loud, you can say it in seeds. And the land‘ will reciprocate, in beans.—Braiding Sweetgrass, 126–27

<idle musing>
Indeed! That's been true in my own life. Do yourself a favor, plant a garden. Start small, though or you will be overwhelmed.
</idle musing>

What's happening here?

I've been silent here for a few days, and it's likely to continue. Right now I'm in the process of reading Braiding Sweetgrass, a fascinating book. It's a collection of short essays by a Native American biologist trying to integrate her ancestry with the scientific approach. Well, actually, it's much more than that. Fascinating book and challenging at the same time. It appeals to my gardening instincts and my mystical bent in Christianity (she's not Christian, but some of her insights are very easily adapted).

The essays are short; the storytelling is great. But, it doesn't lend itself to extracts because that would destroy the narrative that makes them so powerful.

All that to say, this blog will be relatively quiet for a while until I pick up the next book that lends itself to extracts, which could be as soon as today or as late as a month from now.

Meanwhile, we have a pileated woodpecker attacking a stump outside my study window. It's doing a great job of scattering wood chips all over and grabbing grubs. But, it kind of wreaked havoc with the marigolds I had planted there, so I transplanted them : )

Here's a picture that Debbie took yesterday. Enjoy!

Counter-factual

Suppose Abraham had not been silent. Suppose he had been so sure of the mercy of God that he could wrestle with God, arguing back, challenging God—interceding for his son. Or suppose Abraham wasn’t sure of God’s mercy but took the risk to lament anyway. He might have come to know the compassion of this God, who hosted (and affirmed) Job’s complaint——which brought job comfort in the end.

Yet despite Abraham’s failure to lament, God was gracious and kept faith with Abraham, continuing to work through this fractured family——ultimately to bring redemption to the world.

And the God of Abraham continues to welcome lament even today.—Abraham's Silence, 240 (emphasis original)

<idle musing>
Well, that wraps up this book. It's been an interesting ride, hasn't it? I found lots to mull over. And I'm sure I'll be thinking about some of this for a long time.

Not sure what's up next. Right now, the book I'm reading doesn't lend itself to excerpts, but I said that a while back and ended up pulling stuff from it.

We'll see what happens. Meanwhile, I might write an excursus on a section of Naming Neoliberalism: Exposing the Spirit of Our Age that I found troublingly inaccurate. Again, we'll see...
</idle musing>

A make-up exam

Yet Abraham finally did come to understand that God didn’t want him to sacrifice his son. If we consider his sacrificing the ram as analogous with a make-up test given by a generous professor, might we say that in this sense Abraham just barely passed the test of the discernment of God’s character? Or is that conceding too much?—Abraham's Silence, 223 (emphasis original)

<idle musing
I keep asking myself how well I would have done on this test. I fear I would not have passed…
</idle musing>

Did he pass?

Yet the fact that he did eventually look around could be taken as a point in his favor. Perhaps Abraham is to be commended not simply for looking around but especially for offering up the ram “as a burnt offering instead of his son” (22:13) on his own initiative. This was not something actually commanded by God. In one sense, it was too little, too late. In another, it was better than nothing, in that it signified that Abraham finally understood that God did not want him to sacrifice his son. Evidence of his coming to this understanding is that Abraham names the site “YHWH sees/provides” (22:14).

I am inclined to think that Abraham did not pass the test in Genesis 22. His silent obedience indicated that he did not discern God’s merciful character (until the angel called off the sacrifice); and he did not show love for his son by interceding on his behalf.—Abraham's Silence, 222–23 (emphasis original)

<idle musing>
Unfortunately, I'm inclined to agree with him that Abraham failed the test. But, I wonder if I would have done any better. Do I understand the character of God? Or do I have various lens that distort my view? I suspect the latter is true.

May God remove the distortion that I might see him as he truly is!
</idle musing>

Speak up!

If I were to construct a hierarchy of possible responses that Abraham might have made to God’s request to sacrifice his son, I would put protest and intercession on behalf of Isaac at the top of the list, as the optimal response. Through such protest/intercession, Abraham would have demonstrated his profound discernment of God’s character, that YHWH was merciful and compassionate. Or his intuition that God was merciful would have led him to prayer; and this intuition would have been confirmed and expanded by such prayer, resulting (I believe) in God rescinding the request. Such protest and intercession would have also demonstrated his love for Isaac, perhaps strengthening the tenuous bond between them.

But Abraham didn’t speak out on behalf of his son.

Somewhat below this optimal response would be Abraham’s genuine belief that God would provide a substitute—that is, he might have remained silent (against the general tenor of Scripture, which encourages bold prayer), yet trusted that somewhere along the journey or on the mountain itself, he might find an animal to sacrifice instead of his son. Yet when he arrived at the spot for the sacrifice, Abraham did not give even a cursory glance around the vicinity to see if God had provided a substitute; he simply bound his son and placed him on the altar. He did not look around until after the angel called off the sacrifice.—Abraham's Silence, 222

<idle musing>
Don't you want to take Abraham by the shoulders and shake him, yelling, "Wake up! Look around you! Speak up!"

I know I do. But, what about the injustices around you? Are you interceding with God on behalf of those? Asking God to be merciful?

If not, then why not? Maybe you believe in a different god than the biblical one...

Just an
</idle musing>

Too task oriented

Let us understand what is going on. A ram is a male goat or sheep, and for its curled horns (from which a shofar is made) to be long enough to be caught in a thicket, it would have needed to be a fully grown specimen. A large, adult ram, full of testosterone, would have made a huge racket trying to extricate its horns from the thicket that it was caught in. The fact that Abraham didn’t hear the ram (and thus didn’t look around for the source of the noise) when he first arrived suggests that the ram had already stopped struggling. In other words, it had been caught in the bushes (provided by God as a substitute) long before Abraham arrived and had exhausted itself. Such prior provision of a substitute would have flowed from the mercy of Abraham’s God toward him (and also toward Isaac). But if the ram had, indeed, been there (provided or “seen to” by God, as Abraham claimed God would do), Abraham clearly missed it. Did he even look to see if there was a substitute?—Abraham's Silence, 220–21

<idle musing>
Abraham was so task-oriented that he didn't even hear what was going on around him, let alone notice anything. I've been that way at times. It's not a healthy place to be. You miss out on life—you miss out on the provisions that God has supplied so your task doesn't have to be as heavy as you think it is!

May none of us be so task-oriented that we miss God's loving provisions for us!
</idle musing>

But, what if…

Prior to the Aqedah, the promise was stated in terms of the nations blessing one another by Abraham (12:3; 18:18). But here for the first time the blessing is connected to Abraham’s descendants: “By your offspring shall all the nations of the earth bless themselves” (22:18a).

This means that for the promise to be fulfilled, Abraham would need to have offspring. He would need to have obeyed the angel’s command to stop the sacrifice and spare Isaac. This is why the angel links the promise to the sparing of Isaac: “By your offspring shall all the nations of the earth bless themselves, because you have listened to my voice.” Simply put, if Abraham had not desisted from the sacrifice when the angel called from heaven, there would be no offspring by which the nations could bless themselves.—Abraham's Silence, 218 (emphasis original)

<idle musing>
Quite a provocative thought! I'll have to chew on that one for a while…
</idle musing>

A blessing missed

Later, we are told by Abraham’s servant (24:36) and by the narrator in a genealogy (25:5) that Abraham gave all he had to Isaac (possibly as compensation for what he went through on the mountain). But it is significant that Abraham never blesses Isaac. It was literally impossible to do, given that they never met again after chapter 22. Instead, we are told that after Abraham’s death God blessed Isaac (25:11).51 God made up for Abraham’s failing. But was it ever fully made up? What would be the effect on Isaac of the estrangement and the resulting lack of direct blessing from his father?—Abraham's Silence, 210

Silence speaking volumes

Whereas Abraham became silent at the end of his intercession in Genesis 18 (he stopped the conversation earlier than he needed to and so never fully grasped the wideness in God’s mercy), here, in Genesis 22, he never gets the conversation off the ground. He is simply silent. And this silence speaks volumes. It articulates a view of God as clearly as if he had used words. I would suggest that Abraham’s silence speaks of God as a harsh taskmaster who is not to be challenged. If that is what Abraham learned about God, we may wonder what he passed on to Isaac.—Abraham's Silence, 206

<idle musing>
Indeed! That might be the reason why Isaac is such a one-dimensional character. And note that in Gen 31:42, God is called the "terror of Isaac."

That seems apt, doesn't it?
</idle musing>

And he was shown wanting

It is possible that Abraham was merely accommodating his speech to the presumed polytheism of the pagan king (which was unnecessary, since God had already revealed himself to Abimelech in 20:12). But even if Abraham was not confused about the unity of the divine nature, it is reasonable to think Abraham needs further guidance in distinguishing YHWH from the gods of the nations.

In light of the command that Abraham receives in 22:2 to sacrifice his son, we may put the question of Abraham’s discernment of God’s character more pointedly. Is the God of Abraham simply one of the pagan deities of Mesopotamia or Canaan who requires child sacrifice as a symbol of allegiance? Or is he different, a God of mercy and love for his children, who was even willing to forgo udgment on Sodom for the sake of the righteous? That was something Abraham should have learned in chapter 18, so he could pass it on to his own children. But he didn’t. The lesson was cut short—by Abraham himself.

And so in a final, climactic episode in the Abraham story, God gives Abraham another opportunity to learn and grow in the relationship. But God ups the ante this time; God raises the stakes. It’s not his nephew Lot who will be destroyed (along with Sodom, his home). It is Abraham's own son. And it’s not God who will do it; Abraham must do it by his own hand. If anything would force Abraham to speak out, to appeal to the mercy of God, this would be it. Abraham has the opportunity, in this test, to protest the command and intercede for his son’s life, which would articulate his view of the character and ways of God——both in what he says to God and by the fact that he says it. And it would, further, show his love for Isaac (which would be a good thing, not an impediment to his commitment to God).

But Abraham doesn’t speak out; he is silent.—Abraham's Silence, 205–6 (emphasis original)

<idle musing>
Ouch! I hope I'm a better student of God than that! I hope I don't cut short the lesson(s) that God has for me!
</idle musing>

Beyond what we can ask or think…

…It is as if YHWH is looking for an excuse to save Sodom (and Lot).

YHWH’s instructions to Jeremiah might be relevant here. In 5:1 God tells the prophet,

Run to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem,
look around and take note!
Search its squares and see
if you can find one person
who acts justly
and seeks truth—
so that I may pardon Jerusalem.

This suggests that God might forestall destruction of a wicked city for just one righteous person. That Abraham stops at ten, however, suggests that he hasn’t fully plumbed the depths of divine mercy. He has not yet learned what God wanted to teach him. Nevertheless, God rescues Lot and his family through angelic agency (Gen. 19), even though Abraham hadn’t thought to ask for that outright.—Abraham's Silence, 202-3

<idle musing>
That just blows my mind! I hadn't thought of it before, but that Abraham neglects to ask for the safety of Lot (and his family) and God goes the extra distance to save them is truly theology-shaking. My box of what God wants to do is vastly expanded (again!).

I've mentioned Widmer's book, Standing in the Breach before, and he heads in this same direction. But Middleton goes beyond him in exploring God's mercy.

And in light of the happenings over the weekend, I would say that this is a nice encouragement to continue to pray for peace and revival in the face of an epidemic of hate!
</idle musing>

Unquestioning obedience? Not so much!

I am going to suggest that Abraham was being tested not for his unquestioning obedience (that is not something God wants) but rather for his discernment of God’s character. I agree that he was being tested for his trust in God. But genuine trust is not equivalent to blind faith to do anything a voice from heaven tells you. Rather, trust in God requires knowledge or discernment of what sort of God this is.—Abraham's Silence, 197

We might have it all wrong

Given that it isn’t clear at all that Abraham is attached to Isaac, could it be that Abraham is being given a chance in chapter 22 to prove his love for his remaining son? After all, God’s instructions to Abraham in 22:2 contain the following description of Isaac: “your son, your only one, whom you love—Isaac.” So maybe Abraham’s love for Isaac was being tested. As noted in the last chapter, it is possible that the phrase “Whom you love” has the rhetorical effect not of a declarative statement of fact but rather of suggesting to Abraham that he loves Isaac or of attempting to evoke his love for Isaac—with the _sense of “You love him, don’t you?”

But what would be evidence of this love? I suggest that Abraham could prove his love for Isaac by speaking out and protesting God’s command to sacrifice him. Indeed, speaking out on behalf of Isaac might well extend and deepen Abraham’s incipient love for his son (testing often brings to the surface and makes actual what is only potential).—Abraham's Silence, 195–96 (emphasis original)

<idle musing>
I find that to be a provocative thought. What about you? He's right that Abraham seems to favor Ishmael over Isaac.
</idle musing>

How not to treat a promise (and your wife!)

But there is a second problem with the traditional reading of the Aqedah—namely, that it is unclear why this test is needed at all. The Abraham story gives absolutely no evidence of Abraham’s special attachment to Isaac, such that giving him up would prove his commitment to God.

Abraham would seem, rather, to be attached to Ishmael,something that is very clear from chapters 17 and 21. When God tells Abraham that Isaac, not Ishmael, is the one through whom the covenant will be passed, this leads Abraham to plead for God not to forget Ishmael. He exclaims, “O that Ishmael might live in your sight!” (17:18). And when Sarah wants him to send Hagar and Ishmael away, we are told, “The matter was very distressing to Abraham on account of his son" (21:11). In both cases, we find a significant difference from Abraham's response when God tells him to sacrifice Isaac.

In fact, the account of what happens in Genesis 20 suggests that Abraham is so attached to Ishmael that he simply doesn’t care about the replacement son that is promised.

We should remember that Abraham had passed Sarah off as his sister in Egypt back in chapter 12, with the result that Pharaoh took her into his harem. Abraham does this again in chapter 20, this time in Gerar, so the king of Gerar takes her into his harem. But note that chapter 20 comes after God announced that the covenant heir would be born to Sarah (17:16) and after God predicted that this would happen shortly—presumably within the next year (17:21; 18:10, 14). And yet, knowing this, Abraham goes ahead and passes Sarah off as his sister a second time, not caring that he might lose her (and the promised heir with her); indeed, she might even have been pregnant at the time.—Abraham's Silence, 194–95 (emphasis original)

<idle musing>
Definitely not the traditional reading! But, sad to say, it makes better sense of the text than the traditional reading does. And it gives you food for thought, doesn't it? We all have our agendas that we bring to God. And not infrequently they differ substantially from God's purposes.

May we be open to changing our agenda to that which God desires!
</idle musing>