EoG: Chapter 5- Polytheism, the Religion of Ancient Israel

This chapter is set up as Ba'al versus Yahweh; the ancient king god of the primitive Pagans versus the new, more powerful monotheistic god of the Israelites. It helps that the Bible includes many stories about the battles between Ba'al and Yahweh, which can be taken metaphorically for larger cultural issues. But this era of Western human history has more to do with the evolution than modern monotheism emerging fully-fledged from the minds of the Israelites.

Robert Wright claims that rather than God emerging fully fleshed, announcing himself to the Israelites as their lord and savior, it is far more complicated than that, just like the culture of the time. As implied by modern interpretation of the Bible, the Israelites destroyed and overtook the disgusting pagan Canaanites and replaced themselves and their religion as the dominating force of the land. However, it is more likely that the Israelites and Canaanites peacefully coexisted, trading culture and goods, until the gradual peaceful takeover of the Canaanites.

Wright's reasonings for this:

• There is no archaeological evidence for a war between the Israelites and the Canaanites. As evidenced here and also in Wright's book, most of the digs revealed cities without walls or weapons. Walls and weapons are indicators of cities at war; without those, it is far more likely that the two cultures coexisted peacefully, and considering the Israelites used to be a nomadic tribe, they more than likely traded.
• There is evidence in the Bible that the omnipotent God we know today wasn't always that way. Many passages of the Bible allude to a pantheon of gods of which God was only a minor member; Psalm 82:1 says "God has taken his place in the divine council; in the midst of the gods he holds judgement." Most, if not all of the original wording, was probably edited out by the original authors, intent on maintaining Yahweh's divinity in a changing world.
• Many of the mythical narratives proclaiming Yahweh's divinity bear a striking resemblance to the tales of Ba'al and El.
  
  • El is the god of the Canaanites, the original king of the Canaanite gods. The name "Israel" is likely derived from this name; ancient cultures had a habit of naming important things like cities after their gods, and Israel ends in El. The Hebrew word for God is "El," possibly derived from Canaan tradition. There is a school of thought that the El worshippers lived to the north of Judah, and the Yahweh worshippers, to the south, and both are mentioned interchangeably in the Bible, almost seamlessly. In fact, there is one passage, Exodus 6:2-3, that specifically says "I am Yahweh. I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob as El Shaddai, but by my name Yahweh I did not make myself known to them." God himself explains that he started out with a different name. Should the Canaanites and Israelites trade culture and goods (such as explained in the text above) then, like previous Pagan cultures, it would make sense to merge pantheons to create a peaceful cultural connection. The question is how a minor god such as Yahweh ended up absorbing the more powerful god El.
  • Ba'al is the enemy of Yahweh. Ultimately, Ba'al came to embody the evil pagan religions and everything that was wrong with them; Yahweh stood for the morally upright monotheistic religion. This epic battle culminated in 1 Kings 18:16-46, in which God burns a sacrificial bull and Ba'al does not. Elijah seizes the followers of Ba'al and slaughters them all. Considering how much Ba'al and Yahweh did not get along, it is a surprise that many stories about Yahweh seem to be rewritten Ba'al stories. This isn't so surprising when you realize that competitors often steal each other's ideas in order to outdo each other; Apple products are getting copied left and right, to get a piece of the action. Ba'al was a storm god, worshipped as a bringer of rain, very important and popular for agricultural communities. It is no wonder that Yahweh, to compete, began developing aspects of a rain god: his voice as thunder, his spear as lightning, a rider of the clouds.

Ultimately we can see where the origins of Yahweh, of the Judeo-Christian God, the original monotheistic god, lie in polytheism. What effect does this have on our interpretation of religion?

I can see that by recognizing the changes of the origin of God, a lot of the mystery and myth is taken away, and with it, a lot of mysticism. God is no longer infallible. He is susceptible to time and the philosophy of the times, just like the rest of us. Personally this appeals to me, a god that I can relate to, but the power of a Christian god lies in his beauty and omnipotence. We (his worshippers) are not worthy to worship him, but with this knowledge, he might not be worthy of us.

Church

So for some reason I am up abominably early this morning, which leaves me with a dilemma. For the past week, I've been debating whether or not I am going to church today. Earlier this week I was torn between "Well, it's not like I ever go to church, I don't want to start a church-going trend for myself" and my dad basically hounding me to go to church. "Go to the 9:15," my dad said, "I think you like that one better. You don't have to go to the same one as your mom and I."

So the reasons I don't want to go to church are as follows: one, I've never really enjoyed or believed in church and the worship service. Robert Wright's Evolution of God brings up the whole theory that worship was used in the ancient times basically to appease your god so that s/he doesn't explode you with fire. Also the Christians believe that service is used to show your devotion and love of God, and to say that you are not worthy to be loved by God. Also probably so they don't explode in fire either (the Apocalypse). I have not accepted God, either "into my life" or even as a fully fledged concept yet, so whenever I do visit church, I felt like I was visiting a cult and feel really uncomfortable. And two, church is really early on a Sunday, when I just want to be sleeping. I also don't really know anyone at church, except for the one girl that keeps smiling at me and saying "Hi" even though I don't know who she is. So essentially, I'd show up and just sit there by myself, really uncomfortable, while everyone is clapping and singing, until the thing was over, and then my parents would show up for the the later service and I'd have to awkwardly explain myself to Jair about how I am still not a Jesus freak.

Contrarily, I do feel like going to church today. Number one, I am awake at 7AM for some stupid reason, which gives me time to not only update this blog, but also to actually get to church on time. Really, what else am I going to do this morning? (Porn?) Number two, as stated above, my dad has been bugging me to go. Although if I give him the satisfaction this week, I will not hear the end of it, ever. Thirdly, ever since the mission's trip to Haiti, I've sort of felt obligated to go, as if I would be taking advantage of the church if I just used them for Haiti and then left them in the dust, laughing, which would be like the worst six-night stand ever. Especially because I didn't use them, I worked hard, and other people that went on the trip don't go to St. Matthew's (or St. Matt's, which is what the cool kids call it, which you and I are not). So finally I have also felt like I should go. One of the missionaries I met in Haiti, a team leader named Hannah, talked all the time (nonstop) about how she always "felt called" to God and to follow his wills, and she always had to look for his will. All of the times God "called her" sounded like huge coincidences to me, like when God called her to India and and she could tell because for some reason everyone she talked to for like a week kept talking about India. So I guess maybe there is some non-cynical part of me that feels like going to church and seeing if God is calling me to church.

I asked Twitter what to do and my good friend Carlo just replied: "Just go." Fine. But I get to look super cute doing it. I mean, what else am I going to do today?

Love & Haiti

While I'm going to get more in-depth on my trip to Haiti (I plan on trying to sell an article about it, I think) I just want to highlight one really, really stupid part of my trip.

While the fine ladies and gents over at Praying Pelican did a wonderful job of keeping my fellow missionaries and I safe from hostile locals and illness-inducing food (sort of) they failed to warn us ladies about handing out our actual contact information to the local construction workers we would be working with. I know, I know; whenever I hear warnings about "Don't give your actual number out to strangers," I always think "Who does that? Who is that stupid?" Apparently, I am.

My main mission in Haiti was to help rebuild schools and houses, buildings that people would actually need. Three out of the five days that we were there we actually did that; Monday through Wednesday we spent sifting rocks out of sand, mixing cement, shoveling pieces of cinderblock out of rooms, bailing water from the nightly rainstorms, and throwing cement on the walls. We worked with a local Haitian construction crew of about a dozen young men, between the ages of about twelve to 35. (I don't actually know about the 12-year-old part, Fiddler Cherie may or may not have actually been a hired member, maybe he was just doing it for fun.) It was exhausting, strenuous work, made harder by the boiling hot sun. Our first night there Praying Pelican also encouraged us to "build relationships" with the local people. So in addition to building infrastructure, our second mission was to develop God in their lives, by talking to them, or something, I don't know. I talk to people anyway, I figured I wouldn't have a problem with that, language barrier or no.

The local construction crew absolutely loved my friend Deanne and I. We're both cute girls, in our mid-20's, friendly and chatty. We threw ourselves into the dirty work and actively engaged the construction workers in conversation, fulfilling both missions pretty well.

One thing that they (the proverbial "they") tell you is that Haiti is a poverty-stricken, destitute place, where infrastructure is non-existent, people bathe in standing water in the streets, children run around naked for lack of a better option, and trash stands in heaps for months until they burn it, because there is literally no other option. It is a dirty, smelly country that needs help. People will do almost anything to get out of there. (Unless you're Wyclef Jean, apparently.) Almost anything, including marrying an American to get to America and a better life.

You see where I'm going with this? Three men in particular loved chatting with Deanne and I. There was John, Lucien and Pierre Louis. John was the biggest offender- on the same day, he wrote "love letters" to both Deanne and I, declaring a passionate romantic love for Deanne and saying something "wet" to me, which I refuse to try to understand. He tried to write these letters in English, but his grasp of English is challenged, to say the least. Both of us got marriage proposals throughout the week. They would call us over to where they were working, saying "You my frien?" After we nodded- yes, I your frien- they would tell us, in broken English, using French, Haitian-Creole, and hand gestures, that they wanted to visit us in America, asking us where did we live, could we buy them laptops? After struggling to understand them for about ten minutes, either we would nod and say "Yes, ok my friend!" and walk away, or the big boss would walk by and they would scatter. He spent the better part of Tuesday and Wednesday chasing them back to their posts. And then they would come back, asking us to please, give us our numbers, our addresses, our emails, so they they can contact us after the trip.

It sounds harmless, it does. And I thought it did at the time, so I wrote down my email and phone number one time, giving it to John. I wasn't too sure if I should- I'd seen the Digicel guys walking around the main streets of Haiti with their red aprons, so I knew they had cell phones, and I'd spied a few Internet cafes. But Deanne assured me that they couldn't contact us anyway, so I thought of no reason why I shouldn't. One other woman on the group, Vicki, said we should've given the church number, but it was after the fact, and I didn't know the number anyway.

Hindsight! Perfect 20-20 vision, right? Last night I received 20 calls within ten minutes of each other from John. The first night I got back I received dozens of calls from the same number. I added the number under my contact list as "Do Not Answer." Deanne actually picked up the phone when John was calling her to try to talk to him. We don't have the benefit of being actually in the same room with him anymore, so he can't use hand gestures, limiting him to his measly broken English-Creole combination. The only words she got out of him were "I love you" and "You my frien." When I contacted Verizon, they, in their brilliant wisdom, do not make it easy to block a number via cell phone. In order to block a number, you have to go onto their website, go to "Safeguards," and then enter the number, as long as it is a 10-digit American number. Because no one has ever been harassed by a foreigner, ever. It was recommended to me that I write a letter to Verizon, which would be addressed within 24 hours.

So the saga continues. Lesson learned- learn a fake number to give to these people, and fast. I'll keep you all posted.

I'm going to Haiti!

Haiti is coming up soon. Very soon. Apparently I haven't told anyone that I'm going, because every time I mention "Oh, I'm going to be out of town that week," or "Man, my arm feels like a friggen' pincushion," someone gives me a weird look. Then I have to explain that I'm going to Haiti on a mission's trip with my family's church, etc, etc.

A few warnings that I have been given:

• After I told my mom that yes, I wanted to go to Haiti, my father called me to talk to me about the trip. He told me (and I heard this so many other times after this) that this wasn't a vacation. The country, already one of the most poverty-stricken, economically weak nations in the world, had been devastated by the earthquake. Even months later (the earthquake hit January 12, 2010) they're still finding dead bodies in the rubble. Children wandered the streets, recently orphaned. Crime and disease were constants. This was going to be one of the most eye-opening, life-changing experiences of my life. Was I sure I wanted to go?
• At Buffalo Wild Wings, I was talking about the devastating poverty I was likely to go up against, and my friend (I guess he's a friend? My friend's boyfriend, at least) went over the three easiest ways to protect myself.
  • The area at the base of the throat is the weakest point in the body. Jab at it with your knuckles or, if you've got them, your keys, and you've at least knocked out his breath, if not collapsed his pipes.
  • When being raped, grab and twist. I will leave you to fill in the blanks. HINT: IT HURTS
  • Less effective, but I would feel like such a badass doing it: Jab or punch his nose. If done right, like if you've broken his nose, blood will pour out and you will go blind. If not, then you've just pissed off the shark, and now he's hungry for blood.
• At the meeting at the church I went to on Wednesday, we asked why the women would need to bring a bathing suit, specifically a one-piece. The guy in charge of the trip paused for a second, then said delicately, "There's going to be communal showers." Which is hilarious! Showering together. Guess who has to worry about athlete's foot, too. One woman stood up and said, when asked to express her anxieties, "I know this isn't a vacation, but I guess I thought I would have time to relax. I thought we were going to the beach, that's why I thought the bathing suit was on there!" Oh, I did too.
  
  But another thing that they talked to us about was to write down everything that we felt and thought during the entire experience. When we got back, he said, we would be absorbed back into our everyday lives, with its everyday concerns- jobs, houses, school, etc. But if we wrote down everything, when we opened the journal to read it again, it would be like being back there, and everything that we learned and saw would never be forgotten. Because while we get to take a plane out of Haiti after a week, the people there will spend their entire lives downtrodden by poverty.

So, uh, yes! Haiti. I'll fly in on Saturday, probably have church or prayer or something that night, then Sunday I'll have church again, and probably hang out with the orphans or something. Monday through Thursday I'm going to be working on building a school or community center during the day, then having a meeting with Praying Pelican Ministries (the people who are organizing and running the trip), then another prayer/bible study session with my own church group. This isn't no vacation, I'll tell you that much.