I had a very productive night on the thesis. I have just one last passage for the rhetorical analysis, which is really (from my perspective), the most time-intensive part of the exegesis. Today I have been dealing with a section that apparently has caused many scholars to throw up their hands in frustration (Luke 6:43–45). Does it go with the commandment against judging (common position), does it stand alone (less common position), or does it go with the final passage on  hearing Jesus' words and doing them (minority position)? I think I have a new option to propose based on something later in Luke's gospel.

Anyway, it was a good night and an exciting insight that I just have to formulate a bit better.

I'm in the middle of the rhetorical analysis for my thesis of the passage from Luke 6 commonly know as the Sermon on the Plain. (I use the term "commonly" since it's apparent that it's only commonly called that among scripture scholars.) I'm looking at a particular transition, and people commonly note that this transition is a bit odd, but they don't seem to go much further with it.

I know that this post is likely to earn me the ire of some of my non-Catholic friends (and maybe a few Catholic friends as well), so let me 'fess up right now and say that I am a fan of Christian music, particularly Christian rock, pop, and some praise and worship music as well. My playlists for daily listening and workouts have everyone from Matt Maher and Joy Williams to Decyfer Down and The Classic Crime.
3

(especially if you're saying "eschatological reversal").

I'm revising my chapter on the literary context of the Sermon of the Plain in Luke, and I'm working in some material from my paper on the Magnificat and the Song of Hannah. One of the characteristics of the sermon, both songs, and a poem of praise by David in 2 Sam. 22 is a series of eschatological reversals: the poor are lifted up while the rich are sent away, the strong are bereft while the poor batten on spoil.

I'm being reminded lately of why my first thesis experience was so enjoyable. I had a directed research and did the majority of my reading well in advance—even reading through the primary source and most of the critical analyses up to three times. Then I had nothing but writing time, with only housework and childcare in addition.

This thesis is challenging for a completely different reason: work life. I just changed jobs in March, after nine years as a contractor.

Back when I took my first scripture class at Holy Apostles (Torah and Old Testament Historical Books), I wrote a paper on the Song of Hannah and its affinities with the Magnificat. The similarities between the two pericopes have been noted by a some other scholars. I went a step further in my paper, noting that the reversals in each correspond to a degree with the eschatological reversals in the blessings and woes of the "Sermon on the Plain."

I was finishing up my reading of the body of Fr. L.

I posted the first part of my personal history several years ago (in My long, strange trip, part I). A few commenters had indicated that I needed to finish the story, and I've been dragging my feet, in part because it will expose part of me that very few people know about, and it would also highlight certain aspects of my past that I would rather forget and wish had never happened. I don't plan to go into great depth (nothing sordid), but I am still mustering the courage.

This is the last paper I wrote for my Trinitarian theology class. Never got around to posting it.

The Gospel of John could rightly be called the Gospel of Divine Mystery. In it appears, perhaps, the most direct and well-known expression of the Incarnation in all of the New Testament: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; and we have beheld his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father” (1:14). It is through the Son that we come to know the Father (1:18).

Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye.
Wha?
Wha?
My Photo
Boise, ID, United States
My Life/Conversion Story
My Life/Conversion Story
Essays
Poems
Fiction
Popular Posts
Popular Posts
Blog Archive
Blog Archive
Coalition for Clarity
Coalition for Clarity
Coalition for Clarity
Coalition for Clarity
Catholic and Christian Blogs
Other Resources
Loading