A Reflection on Lovely Like Jerusalem, by Aidan Nichols - Book Report/Review Example

A Reflection on Lovely Like Jerusalem, by Aidan Nichols In his book, Lovely Like Jerusalem, Aidan Nichols attempts to outline the Old Testament, innarrative, critical, and theological terms. He argues that a lack of knowledge of the Old Testament is a significant detriment to understanding the New (9). Furthermore, such a dearth “makes impossible a grasp of the entire divine plan that stretches between, and over, the two Testaments” (9). To help the reader correct this deficiency, Nichols presents an overview of the Old Testament narrative before considering patters of revelation, exploring presuppositions, and introducing the basics of typology through his own examples and that of some significant exegesis. Ultimately, the object of this inquiry is not to become mired in the text, but rather to attain a deeper and more lucent appreciation of the mind and devotion of those who first first spoke these words, and for their significance when spoken by ourselves (274). Nichols begins his inquiry with a general outline of the various books of the Old Testament. He explains that, for Catholic readers, the canon consists of five books known as the Torah, or “The Instruction,” the Nebiim, or “The Prophets,” the Kethubim, or “The Writings,” and a final section known as the “deuteroncanoncial writings” (13). Having previously mentioned that many readers “cannot see the woods for the trees” (9) when reading the Old Testament, Nichols attempts to begin with some perspective, and considers the overarching theme of the text. In reading the Old Testament, Nichols implores, the reader must understand that “the promises of God grow ever greater and greater” as the narrative moves forward (14). Ultimately, these promises will be fulfilled with the salvation described in the New Testament (14). The Old Testament begins with the book of Genesis, and in both literal and narrative terms, this book serves to establish a new history (21). As we continue reading, however, it becomes clear that the Torah, as Nichols explains, can be understood as the “epic of Israels nationhood, the foundation of the peoples life” (23). In this sense, the book of Exodus functions as a means to demonstrate that the people of Israel “could be free to worship the God of the patriarchs in the land that had been promised” but more importantly, “in the way God desired” (27). This leads directly into the book of Leviticus, which describes how man can fulfill his relationship with God, in a very material sense. Leviticus explains that “what was produced by human labor” became mans through his own work and could thus “be offered on his behalf to God” (30). Numbers proceeds from this definition of the nature of the material and ownership to a catalog of Gods host (31). Though Nichols explains that Numbers is largely a description of the preparations for, journey to, and events upon, the Moabite plain (31), the greater significance of the book comes through the description of miraculous and providential occurrences that act as a catalog of “covenantal love of the Lord for his people” (33). Finally, the Torah ends with Deuteronomy, which seeks to establish the “structure of biblical authority” and the unity of the covenantal treaty that has been established (34). After the Torah Nichols moves on to the Nebiim, which, he explains, can be understood as “prophetic histories” or considerations of history “in the light of the divine promise” which includes Israels return to the Land, but also the understanding that blessing is given for faithfulness, and punishment meted out for inconstancy (35). To highlight this theme, Nichols begins with a discussion of Joshua and Judges which outlines the “final realization of the promise of the Land” (38). Nichols continues to Samuel, which highlights a shift in the focus of the narrative as a call for true religious reform (39). The books of Kings serve to emphasize the historical significance of the Nebiim and stand, Nichols argues, as “narration that is both theologically motivated and genuinely historiographical” (40). The next collection of books, including Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, serve as the “history told by people who are in love with the liturgy of Israel” (43). In looking at this first collection of books, Nichols eloquently demonstrates that the primary concern of the Nebiim, is to show historys place in the relationship with God. Indeed, to present a historiography of the Covenant. Moving on in the Nebiim, Nichols begins to consider the prophets, and to do this discusses the nature of prophecy in general. If we are to consider the prophets consistent with the earlier books of the Nebiim, or understand a “prophetic history” at all, we must contend with the presence of a predictive element in their speech (45). Nichols explains this by pointing out that the prophets spoke on behalf of the “Ruler of history: the God who had shown himself that Ruler by the fulfillment of his promise to the patriarchs to draw a people from their loins and give that people the Land” (45). The book of Isaiah serves in this revelatory function, specifically in the “Songs of the Servant,” by providing a vision that creates a new paradigm for the “suffering servant,” one that occurs on the “cosmic scale of a God who as a man dies for the entire world” (48). The book of Jeremiah serves to contextualize historical events by imploring people “not to fear becoming a vassal of Babylon” which, Nichols argues, is truly a message to place “trust in the Lord” (49). The message of Ezekiel is even more radical. Nichols explains that the ultimate message of this prophet is the “promise of the resurrection” (51). Finally, the consideration of the major prophets ends with Daniel, who, Nichols explains, provides an apocalyptic prophecy. Indeed, this last prophet summarizes the historiographical message of all that preceded him by demonstrating that “the whole cosmos must be interpreted in the light of the truth learned from Gods revelation in the history of Israel” (52). Understanding this appeal is necessary for approaching the Kethubim, which, Nichols explains, is a testimony that “there is a divine order in the world” (62). This affirmation is first explored in Job, an archetypal “everyman” (62) whose beliefs, “the factors that enable him to live serenely” (63), are flustered because “God has not acted in a fashion that conventional accounts of divine behavior would suggest” (63). The goal of this narrative exploration is to demonstrate that even through hardship and suffering, a person can “attain new heights of emotional and spiritual maturity” (64), a theme that certainly returns in the New Testament. From this challenging story, the Kethubim moves on to the Psalms, which attempt to show readers, as Nichols explains, “how to live life thoughtfully while praising the Lord” (65). This accompanies the Proverbs, which follow, and seek to teach readers how to live “life through relation with God” (68). Nichols then moves on to the Ecclesiastes, which he explains, attempt to “show the depth of the questions divine revelation must face and answer” (69). This brings us to one of the favorite, or at least most famous, books of the Old Testament: the Song of Songs. Nichols eloquently praises this beautiful narrative before explaining that in it “human love is interpreted by a concept of mystical love” and that it is a “celebration of the gracious love of the Lord for his people” (70). Finally, Nichols considers the Wisdom of Sirah, which he argues is an “explication of the covenant of Sinai”(71). Indeed, this serves as a summary of the entire Kethubim which, the reader comes to understand, acts as a guide to living with the Lord and the divine promise. Having outlined the narrative structure of the Old Testament, Nichols proceeds to work towards a greater depth of critical understanding. He begins this process with a careful consideration of the relation of the Old and New Testaments, and more specifically, with the role of the Old in supporting the New. He explains that many scholars have trouble making “theological use” of the Old Testament (77) and as a result a sort of “Neo-Marcionism,” or a push to eliminate the Old Testament entirely from the canon, has emerged (78). Some highlights of this strain of though include Frederich Schleimacher, who argues that the Old Testament might be better presented as an appendix to the New (79), Adolf von Harnack, who believes that the book of “Law,” or the Old Testament, only detracts from the psychological intricacies of the New (79-80), and Ruldof Bultmann, who believes that divine grace is centered on individuals and cannot be focused on a historical group (82). Nichols makes it clear that he does not agree with these positions. He argues that “one can only make sense of the fulfillment,” as realized in the New Testament, “in light of the promise,” as presented in the Old (86). It is this relationship that drives Nichols inquiry into the Old Testament. He argues that a theme giving unity to the two Testaments could indeed be called “the central theme of the Bible” (87). It is the first part of this theme, the promise, or as Nichols explains, “the messianic hope...seen in its broadest perspective” (87) that is embodied in the Old Testament narratives. To further develop this insight, Nichols explores several narratives with the goal of uncovering their messianic theme. He begins with the story of the Son of David, which contains a literal promise of a messianic heir (90) and leads directly to the Gift of a New Spirit, which details the “hope for a renewed and enhancing outpouring of the Spirit of God” (95). Once this is attained, there can occur the hope for the Return to Paradise, in which a vision of the divine son leads his flock back to Eden (97). The messianic ideal, Nichols demonstrates, is further refined with the Homecoming to Mount Zion, which imagines a “spiritual center to which all human beings will be drawn” (102), and the Bride, in which “nuptial theology” (103) explains the relationship of Israel to God and the world (102-103). Finally, a direct foundation for the New Testament is laid with the Remnant, an explication of the fulfillment of the righteous few in spite of the wayward many (104) and, ultimately, the Servant of the Lord, in which an understanding of the remnant (105) is used to broaden the messianic conception to encompass the whole of Old Testament theology (106). It is these stories, Nichols argues, when combined with an understanding of “Israels universal mission and her simultaneous glory in it and failure at it” (108) that allow us to realize the Old Testament tells the story of the “struggle of God with his people over the recognition of grace” (119) and that, in the end, the Old Testament “cannot bring about its own fulfillment” (119). Nichols moves on to discuss how the New Testament works as a fulfillment of the messianic promise laid out in the Old Testament. To do this he confronts the problematic issue of the title of the Lord, demonstrating the significance of the seemingly innocuous “Son of Man” (124). Of course, understanding Jesus as a messiah is not a new idea, indeed, it is likely a large part of the historical, if not the theological, events of his life. Nichols proceeds to illustrate many of the common elements that solidified the image of Jesus as a messiah, including his leadership to a Heavenly Kingdom, his defiance of the Sabbath, his gift of new righteousness and the forgiving of sins (128), and his eventual sacrifice. This survey allows Nichols to demonstrate how the realization of “Zion,” as described in the Old Testament, is revised to refer to the messianic Kingdom, then the Savior himself, as an extension of the Father (134). To support this main theme, of the messianic promise and fulfillment, Nichols examines two minor, but significant themes that develop concurrently. The first is the concept of God and his self-manifestation. Nichols argues that the Old Testament is fundamentally about God, but that the story is told through his relationship with, in spite of, and through the nation of Israel (139). Nichols explains that notions of one God as a summation of many gods (144), the notion that the god of one is composed of many (146), the naming of God (148) and the interaction of the spirit of God with his Word and God himself (149), indeed issues pertaining to the entity or identity of God are all important themes that support later developments in the New Testament. The second supporting theme that Nichols explores is that of creation. In discussing creation as a minor theme, Nichols is mainly concerned with the idea of the creation of history, and the sense that the Bible as a whole charts a story with a beginning, middle, and end (154). Indeed it is the beginning: the creation of heaven and earth, the cosmos and all else, that sets “the decisive theological presupposition for all that follows” (156). It serves as the firm ground that the convents that drive the “middle” of the story are allowed to stand (158). From this point on, Nichols consideration of the Old Testament is concerned with typological perspectives and approaches. Indeed, he begins this discussion by arguing that, because it casts light on such grand themes as “promise-fulfillment,” discussed previously, a typological approach to the Bible “best benefits its unique genius” (167). To illustrate this point, Nichols proceeds to work through several common examples ranging from the allegory of Adam as Christ (177), to the commonly studied story of the sacrifice of Issac (184) and its foreshadowing of both the Passion and the Resurrection (185), to the Exodus which serves as a sort of partial outline for the life of Jesus (189). To continue his typological investigation, Nichols looks at a selection of exegesis from four notable church fathers. He begins by looking at Saint Augustines study of Genesis, particularly the Creation. Nichols points out that Augustines interest in Genesis stemmed mainly from the Marcionean opposition to it, an opposition he had once been a member (204). Nichols outlines Augustines discussion in defense of the Creation very well, but the insight that is typologically significant and important for the rest of Nichols own book is Augustines allegory of the six ages of the world. Augustine argues that the six days of creation reflect the six ages of history as detailed in the scripture, day one being Adam to Noah (214) and day six begins with the birth of Jesus (217). The true revelation of this inquiry, Nichols discovers in Augustine, is that the six ages are also present in the lives of every individual experiencing his or her faith (219). After Augustine, Nichols moves on to Saint Gregory the Greats treatise on the book of Job. In discussing Job earlier, his plight was made plain, and it would seem an easy leap to compare his story with that of Christ, to see Job as an outline or at most a portent of the life to come. However, Nichols explains that this is not the interpretation Gregory came to. Instead, Gregory saw Job as representing much more. He understood the existential tribulations of Job as a “glimpse of the entire structure of the plan of God, the whole divine economy” (229). The third commentator explored by Nichols is Origen, specifically his discussion of the Song of Songs. Origen used the Song of Songs as a means of commenting on the Church through the Old Testament, specifically defining “the preexistent Church, the Church of the Old Covenant, The Church and the Gentiles, and the Church and the Word incarnate” (239). In this way, Origen demonstrates how the travails of the Song of Songs mirror the developments of the Church from various times before Christ, through history (261). Finally, Nichols concludes with a discussion of the Torah from Saint Thomas. Nichols explains that, like Augustine, Thomas was battling Macionism and in doing so established two means of validating the Torah (264). The first is that it contains the “universally binding principles of the natural law, now confirmed by the revelation” (264). His second, and more significant reason, is that when looked at as a set of precepts that “foreshadow Christ” can in many ways “deepen our understanding of him” (264). It is, ultimately, this argument: that through the story of Israel we can come to a better understanding of God and Christ, that resonates at the core of Nichols inquiry. The greatest benefit of Nichols Lovely Like Jerusalem is that it demonstrates the depth of thought and inquiry required to fully embrace, not only the Old Testament, but the New as well. His book implores the reader to look more closely into the scriptures that he hears and reads, to think about the relationships she sees. To accomplish this, Nichols uses an introduction to the Old Testament that is a summary derived from very close reading. He extends this with significant exegesis and an argument for one overarching, thematic interpretation. His argument for the significance of this theme is excellent. Indeed, reading through his discussion, it sounds the obvious typological stance. However, the reader steps away from the experience with many questions about the relationship between the two books. Quickly reviewing the first summary sections after completing the entire book is like returning to a garden months after the seeds have been planted. In instilling this sense of wonder, in renewing interest in a notoriously difficult book, Nichols is most successful. Where Nichols falls short is in his typological discussions in the last half of the book. Certainly, as an introduction to typology, the section, when combined with the exegesis of Church fathers could be a book on its own. However, Nichols fails to properly integrate this discussion with the theme he so carefully nurtures through the beginning. Indeed, a defense of typology is needs, as this is exactly what Lovely Like Jerusalem is, but it would work as a more cohesive whole if it was integrated with the early sections, woven in and out of the argument. As it is, his argument for the unify theme he has discovered is so good, the reader would hardly miss an apology for its typological tendencies. In the end, this is a small criticism, one that was hardly noticeable during reading and only developed upon later reflection. The advantage of this discussion of typology is that it provides a framework for critical understanding and analysis of the Bible, not in a strictly academic sense, but also in a way that deepens the readers understanding of his or her faith. In this way, the critical reading of of the Old Testament serves as an introduction to the tradition of exegesis as highlighted by the writings of the Church Fathers. The true test of this book, as Nichols himself makes clear, is not whether the reader is engulfed in textual analysis, historical deliberation, or semantic nitpicking. Rather, Nichols aim is to consume the reader in a broader understanding, indeed, a greater depth of understanding, of the text of the Old Testament. It is in this that aim that Nichols is most successful. His exploration of the Old Testament adds to the New, creating the rhythmic chords that add so much harmony to an already beautiful melody. Read More