Film and Social Awareness (Two Films about Rwanda and Scared Sacred)

I have personally found film to be an effective medium to portray truthfully the horrors of war, violence, intolerance, and raise the audience’s awareness of various social justice issues. Perhaps more than written news reports, film can be used to evoke a meaningful response on the part of its audience. Note that I am not thinking of those voyeuristic movies that portray violence and/or war in a gratuitous manner or only to arouse. There have been many films that have had a significant impact on the way I perceived the world. Off the top of my head I think of righteous indignation I felt while watching Daniel Day Lewis in In the Name of the Father (1993), or the anger I felt watching Mississippi Burning (1988) or the series of anti-apartheid films of the late 1980s and early 90s such as A Dry White Season (1989) and Cry Freedom (1987). These films caused me to become more aware of the social problems in our world and instilled in me a desire to stay informed and be involved. This has typically taken the form of supporting human rights organizations like Amnesty International and world relief organizations like World Vision, as well as trying to instill in my students an awareness of social justice issues.

More recently, I watched two disturbing films on the genocide that occurred in Rwanda over a period of one-hundred days in 1994: Hotel Rwanda (2004) and the documentary on the same subject Shake Hands with the Devil: The Journey of Roméo Dallaire (2004). While I would highly recommend both of these films, I found them difficult to watch. The news footage of the genocide in Shake hands with the Devil is disturbing, as is their dramatic recreation in Hotel Rwanda. I have real difficultly comprehending how humans can treat each other with such brutality. Also disturbing (and is especially highlighted in Shake hands with the Devil) is how the actions and/or inaction of different nations — especially the old colonial powers — helped create the horrible situation in Rwanda. Rwanda is one occasion when I wished the international community would have intervened rather than sitting on their collective hands!

Hotel Rwanda: Don Cheadle as Paul Rusesabagina, a hotel manager who would go on to save hundreds of lives during the Rwanda genocide in 1994. Nick Nolte plays Canadian Lieutenant-General Roméo Dallaire.

Shake Hands with the Devil: Canadian Lieutenant-General Roméo Dallaire at the Bisesero National Resistance Memorial, Rwanda

Just last Sunday I went to NFB Film Club screening of a new documentary called Scared Sacred. This documentary chronicled the director’s five-year pilgrimage (of sorts) to the world’s “ground zeros” to explore how people found hope admist the darkest moments of human history. Velcrow Ripper (yes, that’s his real name) travels to the toxic wasteland of Bhopal, India; the minefields of Cambodia; war-torn Afghanistan; post-9/11 New York; Bosnia; Hiroshima; Israel and Palestine, among other places. While the film itself has some wonderful cinematography and is quite moving, it has a decidedly Eastern religious bias and is superficial at times. I also objected to some of the ways people in the film tried to justify tragedy by appealing to some higher purpose. That being said, it is a film worth watching if it screens in your neighbourhood.

The Septuagint Psalm Superscriptions (Part 1)

I have been meaning to blog on some of my research on the Psalm superscriptions since I presented a paper at the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies annual meeting earlier this spring (see my summaries of the conference here, here, and here).

This will be the first of five posts on the Septuagint Psalm superscriptions that I will do over the next little while.

Superscripts in the Hebrew Masoretic Tradition

In the Hebrew Masoretic (MT) Psalter, 117 out of 150 psalms are preceded by a superscription, containing four possible types of information:

  1. Personal names (most often with the preposition ‏לְ ). Seventy three psalms contain David; other have Asaph (Pss 50; 73; 83); the sons of Korah (Pss 42; 44-49; 84-85; 87-88); Solomon (Pss 72; 127); Ethan (Ps 89), Heman (Ps 88), Moses (Ps 90), and possibly Jeduthun (Pss 39; 62; 77).
  2. “Genre” classifications (not form-critical genres), including non-technical (e.g., ‏ מִזְמוֹר “psalm” and ‏ שִׁ֥יר “song”; etc.) and technical terms (e.g.,‏ מִכְתָּ֥ם miktam, ‏מַשְׂכִּ֥יל maskil).
  3. Liturgical directions, including the phrase ‏לַמְנַצֵּ֥חַ “to the leader” (NRSV; “for the director of music,” NIV); and other obscure terms denoting melodies, musical instruments, and/or cultic procedures.
  4. Situational ascriptions relating individual psalms to David’s life (Pss 3; 7; 18; 34; 51; 52; 54; 56; 57; 59; 60; 63; 142).

The superscriptions are most likely not original to the psalms, but were added piecemeal before the compilation of the book. Some suggest the liturgical instructions may have been originally subscripts (cf. Hab 3:1, 19). The personal names in the superscripts reflect an old tradition and some of them may even denote actual authorship or perhaps more likely patronage (however, as we will see in my next installment, their first interpreters, i.e., the Greek translators of the Hebrew Psalter, did not understand the personal names as indicating authorship). David’s multiple associations with the origin of psalmody in Israel is very likely ancient (2 Sam 22:1-51; 1 Chron 16:7-43); though it also grew with time (the cross-references to David’s life in some superscripts are likely midrashic comments based upon this growing tradition). The primary significance for the superscripts is the light they shed on the composition and use of the book of Psalms in ancient Israel.

Superscripts in the Greek Septuagint

When one compares the superscripts of the MT and the Septuagint (LXX) one soon discovers a bewildering variety of differences, both qualitative and quantitative. By quantitative I mean actual differences in the superscripts — whether expansions, additions, or deletions — and by qualitative I mean differences in meaning in the translation. What I want to concentrate on are the quantitative differences. That is, the deletions, expansions, and additions found in the LXX superscripts. And the primary question that I want to pursue is what is the nature of the differences. That is, do they reflect a different Hebrew Vorlage [original] or are they inner-Greek developments? But before we move on to this discussion, I want to make two general observations on the character of the superscripts in the LXX.

One of the first things that you observe when examining the superscripts is that it is apparent that the translator had some difficulties with them. Frankly put, he just didn’t know what he was translating some of the time! His method of dealing with the terms he didn’t recognize varied. At times he relied on etymological renderings. So for instance, the translation of [probably a type of song in Hebrew] in 13 superscriptions is consistently rendered as συνέσεως “understanding” or “be prudent.” This equivalency is based on relating the Hebrew to the verbal root σύνεσις, “understand.” Other times, the translator employed (partial) transcriptions such as the rendering of ‏עַֽל־מָחֲלַ֗ת ; (“according to Mahalath” in NRSV) in Pss 53 and 88 are rendered ὑπὲρ μαελεθ. Other times the translator employed educated guesswork, such as the regular translation of ‏מְנַצֵּ֥חַ (“leader” NRSV or “director” BDB) as τὸ τέλος some 55 times in the Psalter. Here the translator evidently related the Heb to the nominal נֵצַח “eminence, enduring, everlastingness, perpetuity” (BDB). Despite the uncertainty that the translator had with his Vorlage, once he decided on an equivalence, he stuck with it. The titles (and to a lesser extent the translation as a whole) are a good example of a very formal — even stilted — translation. For instance, ‏לַמְנַצֵּ֥חַ— always gives rise to εἰς τὸ τέλος‚ “to the end,” ל+personal object is rendered as an articular dative (with the sole exception of לשלמה in Ps 72(71) which features Εἰς Σαλωμων instead), and על + object produces ὑπὲÏ? + genitive.

Second, once you dig a bit deeper into the superscripts, you notice that there is significantly more textual instability surrounding them compared with the rest of the translation. From a text-critical point of view, most of the quantitative differences in the superscripts are contested. More precisely, of the 24 expansions found in the LXX, 19 are contested and only 5 are uncontested; while the additions fair better with 10 uncontested and only three contested. Of course, just because an addition is not contested textually does not mean that it should be considered OG. The LXX is replete with examples of clearly secondary readings that have full textual support (The most famous is Psalm 14(13):3, which includes the text of Romans 3:13-18. This clearly was triggered by the fact that Paul quotes a chain of OT texts beginning with Ps 14(13):3 and them moving without comment to Ps 5.10, 139.4, 9,28; Isa 59:7, 8; Ps 35.2). What this does suggest is that the superscripts were treated with a bit more flexibility. This is likely because they were not considered as having the same authority as the text of the psalms themselves, but instead reflected an ongoing exegetical and liturgical (re)readings of the psalms. This conclusion is borne out by my analysis of the quantitative differences in the titles (that we’ll get to shortly), but also by later scribal practices that made a distinction between the superscripts and the body of the psalm.

My next blog on this topic will look at the additions and expansions including personal names in the Septuagint Psalter — at which point we’ll take a look particularly at the notion of authorship.

U2 and Africa

I am a huge fan of the Irish rock band U2. I realize this confession may make me a pop-culture Philistine in some biblio-blogger’s eyes — at least compared to the regular postings on Mozart, Bach, etc. by Jim West, Joe Cathay, and Michael Pahl (among other blogging luminaries). Be that as it may, I can say without qualification that U2 is my favourite band (there are many in second place). From their very first album Boy (1980) to their latest release How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb (2004), I like all of their music. I have even appreciated their transformations throughout the years, including their Achtung Baby/Pop/Zooropa phase (which, BTW, I thought was a brilliant exposé of the superficiality of popular culture). I regularly use music, lyrics, and videos from U2 songs in my lectures as well as my sermons. Songs such as “Wake Up Dead Man” (Pop 1997) and “Yahweh” (Atomic Bomb 2004) are great examples of modern laments, while “Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of” and “Walk On” (both from All that You Can’t Leave Behind 2000) are great expressions of (Christian) hope.

Perhaps more than anything else, however, I have appreciated U2’s prophetic voice and their ability to raise people’s social consciousness through their music. Songs such as “Sunday, Bloody Sunday” (War 1983; my favourite version is in the 1988 Rattle and Hum film), “Bullet the Blue Sky” (The Joshua Tree 1987), and “Love And Peace Or Else” (Atomic Bomb 2004) all convey a message that the world needs to hear. More than that, however, is the fact that the band also consistently backs up their words with actions. What compelled me to blog on U2 was the news story that U2 is going to be donating over six million euros to help fight poverty in Africa. Well done, boys! (Hopefully their generosity will be a model for all of us, including our over-paid “celebrities”)

UPDATE: In mentioning the musical tastes of other biblio-bloggers, I failed to note Ed Cook’s posts on Bob Dylan. (I also like Bob Dylan, though here I am showing my age since I know him more from his Travelling Willbury’s days!

War and Qohelet

Is there a time for war? I would argue that the list of 14 antitheses in chapter three of Qohelet are not presented as things that are all good or proper. In fact, the list alternates between what is desirable (birth, healing, peace, etc.) and undesirable (death, killing, war, etc.). But the point of the entire list is to show the hebel ‏הֲבֵל or absurdity of human existence “under heaven.” All of these things happen outside of human control and because everything is determined, there is no profit in human toil. Verse 11 is the key to the interpretation of this passage. The first phrase emphasizes the fact that God determines the time for everything, ‏ אֶת־הַכֹּל עָשָׂ֖ה יָפֶה בְעִתּוֹ “He brings everything to pass precisely at his time” (Note that I took referent of the possessive pronoun on “time” as God). The rest of the verse highlights the absurdity of human existence: while there is a time for everything, only God knows the timing: God has “put ‏הָעֹלָם in their hearts, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” The times are set and there is nothing that we can do about it. This unpleasant conclusion is that God has played a trick on all of us. He has implanted in us an awareness that of our inability to know. Our only compensation is that we can enjoy the good time — though note that even here it is a gift controlled by God. I don’t think that this list can be used to justify any human actions, whether the decision to enter into a war or to go dancing.

I object to ever describing war as “just, right, and/or good.” Sadly, war is a much too frequent reality in this radically fallen world, but that doesn’t mean it is ever good. War is a manifestation of evil and no matter what noble reasons one may have for waging war, the evil of war will pervade all who participate. A prime example of this would be World War II. If any war could be deemed a “justifiable” war, I would think it would be the one. That being said, the war in the Asia-Pacific theatre ended up with the U.S. dropping atomic bombs on civilian targets — which I would find difficult to ever consider “just, right, and good.” Thus, while war is a reality and perhaps even necessary for a nation to engage in once all other options have been exhausted, it is never a “good” option. If this is “quibbling” forgive me; I believe it is an important distinction.

In Memory of Prof. Nahum M. Sarna (1923-2005)

It was with some sadness that I read the news of Nahum Sarna’s death today (23 June 2005) on the Biblical Studies email list. Professor Sarna was former Chair in the Department of Near Eastern and Judaic Studies and Dora Golding Professor of Biblical Studies at Brandeis University. He was the author of many excellent scholarly and more popular volumes on the Psalms, Genesis, and Exodus, as well as editor and contributor of the JSP Bible Commentary. In his lifetime he made an amazing contribution to biblical studies and his insightful analysis and commentary will be missed, though will live on in his publications and the many individuals who had the privilege of studying with him.

I personally really appreciated his work on the book of Psalms and Genesis.

Here is a brief bibliography of his more significant books:

  • Sarna, Nahum M. Studies in Biblical Interpretation. JPS Scholars of Distinction Series.
    Jewish Publication Society, 2000. [An excellent collection of nearly thirty essays by Prof. Sarna on Torah, the Psalms, Prophets and Writings, and Biblical History.]

  • Sarna, Nahum M. On the Book of Psalms: Exploring the Prayers of Ancient Israel.
    New Edition. Schocken, 1995. [A sensitive and rigorous exploration of the Psalter.]

  • Sarna, Nahum M. Exodus: The Traditional Hebrew Text with the New JPS Translation.
    JPS Torah Commentary. Jewish Publication Society, 1991. [An awesome commentary on the book of Exodus]

  • Sarna, Nahum M. Genesis: The Traditional Hebrew Text with the New JPS Translation.
    JPS Torah Commentary. Jewish Publication Society, 1989. [An awesome commentary on the book of Genesis]

  • Sarna, Nahum M. Understanding Genesis.
    New Edition. Schocken, 1970. [A great little volume on the book of Genesis.]