Bless we the Lord!

Currents in Theology and Mission, June, 2007 by Ralph W. Klein

It is a strange concept, come to think of it. We often speak of God blessing us in manifold ways, but how can we mortals offer any blessings to God? Folks did it quite regularly in the Old Testament (Gen 24:48; Deut 8:10; Josh 22:33; 1 Chr 29:10, 20; 2 Chr 20:26; 31:8--and many times in the Psalter). Blessing of God is a little easier to understand when it appears in "the blessing formula": "Blessed are you, God." This blessing formula occurs twice in the Bible (1 Chr 29:10 and Ps 119:12), begins at least one of the standard Eucharistic prayers, and is very common in synogogal worship today. This blessing formula does not say who does the blessing, but it recognizes God as one who is to be honored, praised, thanked, and exalted--that is, blessed.

The solution to this mini-dilemma of how we can bless God comes in 1 Chr 29:10: "David blessed Yahweh before the whole assembly, and David said, 'Blessed are you Yahweh, God of Israel our ancestor, forever and ever.'" David blessed God by pronouncing the blessing formula, and I suspect that what is explicit here is implicit on all the other occasions when humans blessed God. When we hear that people in the Old Testament blessed God, they were implicitly pronouncing the blessing formula in regard to God. The next verse in Chronicles explains what such blessing means: "To you Yahweh belong greatness, and power, and honor, and splendor, and majesty, indeed all things in heaven and earth." The doxology appended to Matt 6:13 in many late manuscripts of Matt 6:13--and in every one of our recitals of the Lord's Prayer--is based on this verse, 1 Chr 29:11.

Whether or not the following articles bless the Lord, they do offer manifold blessings to us!

Martha Ellen Stortz explores the way Christ dwells in us through the Eucharist and the way we dwell in Christ through our baptism. Through the Eucharist we take Christ's body into our own and become what we eat. Through baptism we are taken up into the body of Christ. Through both of these sacraments we are enabled and empowered to reach out of ourselves and toward the neighbor and into the world. When Thomas insists on touching the wounds of Jesus in John's Gospel, he understands the wounds as central and essential in any estimate of Jesus. Similarly, Juliana of Norwich desired to share Christ's sufferings and to receive three wounds: true contrition, natural compassion, and unshakable longing. The meal of the Eucharist nourishes us with Christ's body and blood, it is food that is not simply eaten but shared, and it is not finished until we have reached the hungriest mouth in the world. In baptism we move forward only by returning to its promises. Baptism adopts us into a cross-cultural and cross-pollinated family of the children of God. Through baptism we are the body of Christ in the world, his hands and feet.

Joel N. Lohr examines how Paul's tentmaking affected his relationship with and ministry to the Corinthians, the meaning of 1 Corinthians 9 in its context, and Paul's decision to remain financially free from the Corinthians. Paul's tentmaking trade enabled him to identify with the lowly and exhort the socially elite to do the same thing. Tentmaking was long, hard, noisy, and dirty work--with low pay. This work choice was at a great cost to Paul, but he thereby provided an example for the Corinthians to follow. Paul had discovered freedom but was willing to forfeit his rights for the sake of the gospel. Paul was proud that he had made the gospel free. He was pleading with those in the upper strata of society to give up their freedoms, as he had, in order to remove division within the church. In imitating Paul's example the strong identify with the weak and, in turn, imitate Christ.

Pamela Cooper-White reviews a collection of essays by Lutheran college professors dealing with religion, the arts, and imagination. The reviewer identifies herself as an Episcopal priest, interested in postmodern, psychoanalytical, and feminist theory, but with many ties to the Lutheran tradition. The review is as broad as are the insights in the various essays. She gives particular attention to the views of Carol Gilbertson on the relationship of literature and religion in the classroom. (Gilbertson was once the chair of LSTC's Board of Directors.) The author notes that dramatic readings of the Gospel of Mark allow audience members to reenact their own struggles in those of the disciples. She also affirms that from a psychological point of view we cannot exclude our own psychological needs or our "countertransference" in relation to the experience of music as we perform it or experience it. Of course, music does not always move us in ways that feel good or are uplifting. Paul Beidler notes that the reiteration of any moment in time necessarily disconnects it from the immediacy of that experience. The author laments the lack of sustained attention to the visual arts, architecture, film, dance, and other forms of art in this collection. While the authors are homogeneous, they evoke a host of questions, indicating the importance of this publication.