Working on the Sabbath warrants a death sentence
- Thread starter S.A.M.
- Start date
Originally working 6 days a week and resting on the 7th was meant to be a good thing. This was brought about by the priest intending to prove a little help for those people doing the laborious tasks. The reason was if there wasn’t a day of rest then the people working in the fields would have been forced to work week after week without a day off. The laborers would have had to work day after day and never a day off.
The commandment to keep the Sabbath was intending to make the task masters keep the law. That law was informing the task masters that they would be put to death if they forced a laborer to work more than six days a week in the fields. Before the commandment was enacted some people were probably worked to death, actually. End of story.
The commandment to keep the Sabbath was intending to make the task masters keep the law. That law was informing the task masters that they would be put to death if they forced a laborer to work more than six days a week in the fields. Before the commandment was enacted some people were probably worked to death, actually. End of story.
God will fuck you up?
No. Judaism does have its death-cult—in the anthropological context—and the redemptive dimension that has fueled Christianity emerged in the first century BCE, at the latest. But consider the periods of Jewish exile.
Aside from a basic, human fear of death, ancient Jews, like many peoples of prior eras, feared a basic formula in which the course of nature and society reflected God's favor or displeasure.
Plagues, invasions, natural disasters ... this sort of superstition most likely continues to this very day in some parts of the world. Huxley, in Jesting Pilate, wrote of seeing this old colonial cannon near a town in, I think, Malaysia. The metal was stained and corroded. It was near the road, and the site reasonably by the locals, some of whom held it in strange reverence. He observed, at one point, a young woman walk up to the cannon, climb onto it, and if she actually masturbated or whatever, Huxley wouldn't have said explicitly. As near as I can tell, she just spent some time straddling the barrel and rubbing herself against it. It's a local fertility ritual, apparently.
In a broader human context, how does humping a cannon bless you with divine fertility? How does sacrificing a bird at an altar bring God's blessing into your daily life?
In the (religious) beginning, people saw the supernatural in much, if not most or even all of life. There were gods for fire and rain, rivers and mountains. These were powerful symbols in early religious life. Over time, people refined their relationships with the various gods. By the time we get to Abramic monotheism, any number of formulae have been tried, and any number of results observed. IHVH developed in the context of everything else going on around the people and within their minds. God was relegated to this liminal space: not so near as the rocks or the rain, but neither so far as to be without consequence. The Greeks had achieved a curious monotheism with a God without consequence, but carried on a polytheistic mundane life; philosophically, the Jews had developed along a different course with different values assigned the variables. What they came up with was an intrusive monotheism that consolidated certain polytheistic notions into a single, all-powerful idea. But it was still involved—unlike the Aristotelean Unmoved Mover—with daily life.
And here we see the nexus point for fear. God doesn't have to kill you to let you know He's displeased. He can just, oh, I don't know, destroy your crops, kill your livestock, murder your family, and set a miserable disease upon you. And on a bet at that.
Then again, Job was the most faithful and reverent. Perhaps there is a lesson there, as well.
S.A.M. said:
No. Judaism does have its death-cult—in the anthropological context—and the redemptive dimension that has fueled Christianity emerged in the first century BCE, at the latest. But consider the periods of Jewish exile.
Aside from a basic, human fear of death, ancient Jews, like many peoples of prior eras, feared a basic formula in which the course of nature and society reflected God's favor or displeasure.
Plagues, invasions, natural disasters ... this sort of superstition most likely continues to this very day in some parts of the world. Huxley, in Jesting Pilate, wrote of seeing this old colonial cannon near a town in, I think, Malaysia. The metal was stained and corroded. It was near the road, and the site reasonably by the locals, some of whom held it in strange reverence. He observed, at one point, a young woman walk up to the cannon, climb onto it, and if she actually masturbated or whatever, Huxley wouldn't have said explicitly. As near as I can tell, she just spent some time straddling the barrel and rubbing herself against it. It's a local fertility ritual, apparently.
In a broader human context, how does humping a cannon bless you with divine fertility? How does sacrificing a bird at an altar bring God's blessing into your daily life?
In the (religious) beginning, people saw the supernatural in much, if not most or even all of life. There were gods for fire and rain, rivers and mountains. These were powerful symbols in early religious life. Over time, people refined their relationships with the various gods. By the time we get to Abramic monotheism, any number of formulae have been tried, and any number of results observed. IHVH developed in the context of everything else going on around the people and within their minds. God was relegated to this liminal space: not so near as the rocks or the rain, but neither so far as to be without consequence. The Greeks had achieved a curious monotheism with a God without consequence, but carried on a polytheistic mundane life; philosophically, the Jews had developed along a different course with different values assigned the variables. What they came up with was an intrusive monotheism that consolidated certain polytheistic notions into a single, all-powerful idea. But it was still involved—unlike the Aristotelean Unmoved Mover—with daily life.
And here we see the nexus point for fear. God doesn't have to kill you to let you know He's displeased. He can just, oh, I don't know, destroy your crops, kill your livestock, murder your family, and set a miserable disease upon you. And on a bet at that.
Then again, Job was the most faithful and reverent. Perhaps there is a lesson there, as well.
That makes sense. And I can see how it would be useful too.
Whats it based on?
The vagaries of blind faith?
Common sense and the realization of the lack of compassion the task masters would have had during that time. The task master didn’t have any guide other then to get the work done. They were instructed not to muzzle the ox when threshing too. Another sign of compassion for an animal the task masters wouldn’t have had.
The connection I stated a hekesh. The word basically means this. Let's say the word X is used 4 times in the Torah, each time in a different context. To acquire a definition of the word you must make it have the same properties in every instance without making word Y (another word in the same sentence as X) go against its definition it its other instances. And so on until every word perfectly is defined without conflict.
In this case, the Word-X was used in building the Tabernacle, as "And work was done on the Tabernacle...(then what work was done is explained)". Then later in the Torah it says "You shall not do work." So every thing action that had to be done directly to the Tabernacle for its construction is prohibited to do on the Sabbath.
And "Earth" seems to be making things up with no background, a common thread amongst Christian theologists.
This statement by you is not just a belief it is a judgement.
This one is coming back to you just as you pronounced it.
He judged himself and no one else. He found his judgement acceptable, too.
Then please, proceed with haste in your attempt. If you disagree with the philosophy, you disagree with God.
Exodus: 17:16
וַיֹּאמֶר, כִּי-יָד עַל-כֵּס יָהּ, מִלְחָמָה לַהי, בַּעֲמָלֵק--מִדֹּר, דֹּר.
And he said: 'The hand upon the throne of the LORD: the LORD will have war with Amalek from generation to generation.'
and again in Deuteronomy 25:17-19
זָכוֹר, אֵת אֲשֶׁר-עָשָׂה לְךָ עֲמָלֵק, בַּדֶּרֶךְ, בְּצֵאתְכֶם מִמִּצְרָיִם.
אֲשֶׁר קָרְךָ בַּדֶּרֶךְ, וַיְזַנֵּב בְּךָ כָּל-הַנֶּחֱשָׁלִים אַחֲרֶיךָ--וְאַתָּה, עָיֵף וְיָגֵעַ; וְלֹא יָרֵא, אֱלקִָים.
וְהָיָה בְּהָנִיחַ הי אֱלֹהֶיךָ לְךָ מִכָּל-אֹיְבֶיךָ מִסָּבִיב, בָּאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר הי-אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לְךָ נַחֲלָה לְרִשְׁתָּהּ--תִּמְחֶה אֶת-זֵכֶר עֲמָלֵק, מִתַּחַת הַשָּׁמָיִם; לֹא, תִּשְׁכָּח.
Remember what Amalek did unto thee by the way as ye came forth out of Egypt;
how he met thee by the way, and smote the hindmost of thee, all that were enfeebled in thy rear, when thou wast faint and weary; and he feared not God.
Therefore it shall be, when the LORD thy God hath given thee rest from all thine enemies round about, in the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee for an inheritance to possess it, that thou shalt blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven; thou shalt not forget. {P}
It seems rather specific to me...
There's no other way to derive law from the Torah. The Talmud lists the rules were given to the Great Assembly from Samson, and to Samson from Joshua, and Joshua from Moses, and moses from God.
Who are you to judge anybody because of their Philosophy? Thou shalt not judge, period.
It's been most congenial.
I'm not Christian, and I didn't judge anyone on their philosophy. Those philosophies which are prohibited are listed not by me, but by the first 5 books. If you disagree with them, throw your first 5 books away...and all the prophets and Old Testament that follow if you wish...being that they're BASED on the first 5.
In fact I think you should if you disagree with them, and your book bag would be much lighter as well.
The question posed in the OP is answered clearly in Matthew 12. Jesus presents a number of arguments for why he believes it is acceptable to do some work on the Sabbath.
Divine Spectrum
We call it blind faith now, because we think we know better. And in many things, we actually do.
I would go with blind or superstitious fear. Pascal's Wager long before anyone (e.g., Pascal) figured out the formulation.
It is hard to devise a useful analogy here because it's such a broad and complex phenomenon.
I have faith that the sun will rise tomorrow. I have very great reason for that faith. Indeed, it transcends faith, and nearly becomes knowledge. There are two reasons the sun might not rise tomorrow:
One can say that my "faith" in the astronomers and physicists and mathematicians is mere faith, to be certain. But I'm .... certain ... that if there was so glaring an error in the theory, we would be seeing more and greater deviations in the results than we do.
But even if one insists on calling the physics of the sun a matter of faith, it is still a far cry to spending my life trying to please God in order to make sure He causes the sun to rise tomorrow. In fact, it is such a leap that I cannot measure the difference. I can't tell you how those people felt in millennia past. And that's where we get hung up trying to describe the fear that inspired old religious traditions.
In pre-history, someone figured out how to contain fire. There's a Monster Magnet lyric that goes, "Place the stones in a circle of twelve", and while the song is generally unrelated to Agni, as such, try to put yourself back at the roots of mystical thought. You see the volcano, or the lightning strike that brings a forest fire. How do you describe this? Yet at some point a brave Prometheus captures the fire. I'm thinking there had to be some informal experimentation. Maybe a couple camps burned down, a few people destroyed by a fire out of control. Now, in the present day, I'm pretty sure you could find a few physicists who could describe to you very nearly, if not all the way to, the particle processes involved in fire. And, remembering that as science emerged and its definitions refined, one definition of "life" we've left behind was vague enough to include fire as a living thing.
So in pre-history, you teach the child to place the stones in a circle. Why? How do you explain containing fire? Maybe it's an instinctive notion the first times it happens. Maybe it's the result of observation. The fire doesn't cross the stones. Perhaps the circle of twelve, or however-many stones, becomes institutionalized because that was how the clan or tribe built the fire pits for a couple of generations. But what emerged, at some point, was the idea of a capricious fire god that can be appeased, communicated with, appealed to, and that can destroy you.
Set that at one end of the spectrum.
At the other end, perhaps atheism. Or, if we wish to be metaphysical, a panentheistic variation in which God exists without consequence—e.g., "God is." History has witnessed a transformation of superstitions and gods that is only striking if we do not apply basic psychological principles in our analysis. The relationship between the divine and mundane has been a decaying balance: we move God farther away from us while seeking to maintain Its intrusion and influence in our lives. We may have reached a turning point for our current (e.g., Abramic) formula, as the godhead's influence wanes in our outlook.
Still, though, where on that spectrum, and where in time and space, did the idea you consider originate? I couldn't put those people on the couch even if I was a proper psychologist because they're dead. But some extrapolation would be possible as such so that we might have some idea of how any particular expression of God emerged.
S.A.M. said:
We call it blind faith now, because we think we know better. And in many things, we actually do.
I would go with blind or superstitious fear. Pascal's Wager long before anyone (e.g., Pascal) figured out the formulation.
It is hard to devise a useful analogy here because it's such a broad and complex phenomenon.
I have faith that the sun will rise tomorrow. I have very great reason for that faith. Indeed, it transcends faith, and nearly becomes knowledge. There are two reasons the sun might not rise tomorrow:
(1) The sun will rise tomorrow, except some disaster will kill me today, so I won't see it.
(2) At some point later today, or early tomorrow morning, all physical law in the Universe will somehow deviate, causing the sun to randomly explode, or the Universe to end, or whatever.
(2) At some point later today, or early tomorrow morning, all physical law in the Universe will somehow deviate, causing the sun to randomly explode, or the Universe to end, or whatever.
One can say that my "faith" in the astronomers and physicists and mathematicians is mere faith, to be certain. But I'm .... certain ... that if there was so glaring an error in the theory, we would be seeing more and greater deviations in the results than we do.
But even if one insists on calling the physics of the sun a matter of faith, it is still a far cry to spending my life trying to please God in order to make sure He causes the sun to rise tomorrow. In fact, it is such a leap that I cannot measure the difference. I can't tell you how those people felt in millennia past. And that's where we get hung up trying to describe the fear that inspired old religious traditions.
In pre-history, someone figured out how to contain fire. There's a Monster Magnet lyric that goes, "Place the stones in a circle of twelve", and while the song is generally unrelated to Agni, as such, try to put yourself back at the roots of mystical thought. You see the volcano, or the lightning strike that brings a forest fire. How do you describe this? Yet at some point a brave Prometheus captures the fire. I'm thinking there had to be some informal experimentation. Maybe a couple camps burned down, a few people destroyed by a fire out of control. Now, in the present day, I'm pretty sure you could find a few physicists who could describe to you very nearly, if not all the way to, the particle processes involved in fire. And, remembering that as science emerged and its definitions refined, one definition of "life" we've left behind was vague enough to include fire as a living thing.
So in pre-history, you teach the child to place the stones in a circle. Why? How do you explain containing fire? Maybe it's an instinctive notion the first times it happens. Maybe it's the result of observation. The fire doesn't cross the stones. Perhaps the circle of twelve, or however-many stones, becomes institutionalized because that was how the clan or tribe built the fire pits for a couple of generations. But what emerged, at some point, was the idea of a capricious fire god that can be appeased, communicated with, appealed to, and that can destroy you.
Set that at one end of the spectrum.
At the other end, perhaps atheism. Or, if we wish to be metaphysical, a panentheistic variation in which God exists without consequence—e.g., "God is." History has witnessed a transformation of superstitions and gods that is only striking if we do not apply basic psychological principles in our analysis. The relationship between the divine and mundane has been a decaying balance: we move God farther away from us while seeking to maintain Its intrusion and influence in our lives. We may have reached a turning point for our current (e.g., Abramic) formula, as the godhead's influence wanes in our outlook.
Still, though, where on that spectrum, and where in time and space, did the idea you consider originate? I couldn't put those people on the couch even if I was a proper psychologist because they're dead. But some extrapolation would be possible as such so that we might have some idea of how any particular expression of God emerged.
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It also says "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone."
That would be Mrs. Garribaldi from my 6th grade class. I know she was without sin because she told us one day. And can you say the same? Sadly, we could not.
Ergo, Mrs. Garribaldi is a professional stoner.
But don't tell her I said that.
YWHA has always been a jackass about these things.
*YHWA in his whinny bitch voice*
"Worship me, Worship me. I'm the only One God. Me Me Me ME ME ME ME..."
*Satan*
"I can NOT take YOUR whinny shit any longer, I'm going down to live with the humans"
*Satan leaves slamming the cloud*
*YHWA*
"Oh, he likes his HUMAN'S huh, I'll show those fuckers a world of pain. Rule One. No working on Sabbath. Rule Two: .....
*Xenu*
"Well, it's getting late and I got to be getting back to Alpha Century - you know, Intergalactic Warlording stuff. Well, I had a lovely time. Please tell Satan I said hello and maybe I'll get time off work say in 2050ish? Bye...*
*Xenu prepares to leave*
*All the Angels*
"Hey, ah, Xenu, got any room in your DC Liner for us? Maybe a drop off over to Beta-Cenery-A5Y?
*Everyone leave the stage except YHWA*
*YWHA looks down on Earth, at Satan having fun with the Human Eve: her nice apple arse, her round firm bosom, smooth tan skin...*
*YWHA's eyes glow red.. alone he whispers to himself*
"Rule 37, No eating of the Tree of Live"
*YWHA smiles, his eyes glow brighter as he licks his lips....*
Like I said, YWHA has always been a little bitch. The Gods actually came back in the year 3067 and rescued the last of humanity from the evil YHWA ...and irony of ironies, put HIM in the eternal lake of fire. Yeah, they had to go back in time and rescue every single human that YWHA tortured to death. It was a logistical nightmare with the space-time continuum and all. ... ..