'How Eskimos Keep Their Babies Warm' (Review)

No, this is not a parenting guide. Anyone with an ounce of curiosity about other cultures will enjoy How Eskimos Keep Their Babies Warm, and Other Adventures in Parenting (from Argentina to Tanzania and Everywhere in Between) (Algonquin Books, 2012). Approaching with a hint of naïveté and a bit humor, journalist Mei-Ling Hopgood investigates the ways mothers and fathers around the world rear their children, and reports on her misadventures in actually trying to apply some of these ideas to her own daughter.

Before getting on the defense, note that Eskimos is not an apologetic for non-American parenting styles. Many of the practices discussed are so deeply embedded in the cultures referenced, that application in the United States doesn’t always make sense. No bedtimes in party city Buenos Aires might not translate well here, where children find security in structure and familiar schedules. Chinese hosts will be more understanding then American ones when your diaperless toddler makes a mess on their floor. And carrying your infant all day when lions are constantly about saves lives in Kenya, where there aren’t many paved surfaces for strollers anyway. However, Hopgood does encourage her readers to think outside the box and take away real lessons on how to improve upon current parenting norms.

Complaint? Well, call it false advertising. I searched high and low and never found a word about Eskimos. Funny thing though: When my mother and my husband, on separate occasions, saw me reading the book, both asked “So how do Eskimos keep their babies warm?” Maybe eventually Hopgood will provide the answer. [Correction: A kind reader (below) found the reference that I'd forgotten about when writing this review. On p. 66, Hopgood discusses the amauti, the traditional, and very furry, baby carrier used by the Inuit people. I apologize for the error.]

More Thoughts on Matthew

Exilarch Huna Receives the Elder,
displayed at the Diaspora Museum, Tel Aviv (Wikipedia)

Often Christians read things into the Bible that just aren’t there. One example is the claim that Joseph, the husband of Mary, Jesus’s mother, was “in line for the throne of David.” Accepting the genealogies recorded in Genesis, Ruth, 1 Chronicles, and Matthew, we can say that Joseph was a member of the tribe of Judah and a descendant of the house of David. But does that actually make him heir apparent? The assumption Christians make is that Joseph would’ve been recognized as king in the event of a restored monarchy.

It doesn’t take much effort to realize that, in absence of such a claim being made in the New Testament, this is rather absurd. There are literally hundreds of millions of people whose legitimate descent from one or more of the kings of England can be proven today with some help from a genealogist.* But you’d laugh if the guy living next door tried to claim a right to dethrone Queen Elizabeth.

In the same way, all we have about Joseph is a claim of Davidic descent. Yet, we allow Matthew 1:1-17 to be truncated into a fanciful statement about his political and social position; one, I might add, that doesn’t really fit his role as a Nazarene tradesman. If first-century Jews were really looking for a military leader to restore the throne of David, we’d expect Christ’s hometown to be looking to him, the rightful king, for direction rather than dismissing his teaching and miracles as unbefitting a carpenter’s son (Matthew 13:53-58). The circumstances around Joseph give the impression that, during the same time, there were plenty of other individuals with stronger claims to the throne.

There’s another problem when the official line of David is considered. Matthew’s genealogy diverts from this record at Zerubbabel, listing Abiud as his son (Matthew 1:12) rather than any descendant mentioned in 1 Chronicles 3:19-24. Since Matthew’s genealogy is known to be truncated elsewhere, this doesn’t necessarily imply an error. It merely shows who the author thought to be the most important. Oddly enough, however, that apparently doesn’t include names after Zerubbabel that we might see as vital for presenting Jesus as a royal claimant.

This unfortunately opens up the possibility that Joseph didn’t descend from Zerubbabel’s recognized male offspring. Instead it suggests a line traced a female (such as a daughter), through the son of a minor wife or concubine, or through an illegitimate child. However, any of these would seriously weaken or completely eliminate any claim for political headship.

I think the most likely explanation as to why Matthew’s line doesn’t match the official chronicles is that he might have had incomplete information about Joseph’s descent from Zerubbabel. This might have even been due to records lost during the Babylonian captivity, as was known to have happened (Ezra 2:59-63). Perhaps the family of Abiud was accepted as part of the Davidic house by their clansmen, yet it wasn’t in a position to actually prove the relationship. That happens in families today that accept certain members as relatives, all the while not remembering exactly how they’re related after a few generations have gone by.

Now, contrast this situation with the claims used to support the office of exilarch over Babylonian Jewish communities during the Parthian and Sasanian empires and the Islamic caliphates. The exilarchate was traced back through, at minimum, one individual per generation recorded after Zerubbabel in the Davidic genealogy (the position not going strictly from father to son). In addition, the Jewish community recognized the exilarchs’ paternal descent and certain rabbis’ paternal and maternal descent from David, supplying some credence to their lineage claims. That doesn’t prove that these second to eleventh century “kings in exile” were actually the rightful heirs to the Kingdom of Judah. However, it does show that, at least on paper, the claims of the exilarchs make for a stronger case than that pressed upon Jesus’ earthly father.

The big question is why, in the face of little evidence, Christians continue to repeat the story about Joseph having a claim to David’s throne. Perhaps we like hearing about princes living among commoners. (Weren’t we entirely taken in by Anna Anderson’s impersonation of the Grand Duchess Anastasia?) And it gives more earthly prestige to our humbled Lord incarnate. We kid ourselves into thinking that an adoption presents a loophole in God’s curse on King Jeconiah’s line (Jeremiah 22:24-30), even though a non-existent kingdom can’t be passed down to anyone. We replace “seed” or “offspring” with “royal line” when discussing passages about the Jews’ expectations concerning the Messiah (e.g., John 7:42) because it sounds more grandiose. Instead, we should take seriously that Christ’s Kingdom is “not of this world” (John 18:36). In no way does He need to follow any earthly rule of succession to claim it.

* This is true for royal houses throughout history for two simple reasons: First, after a few generations, not all descendants of a king will have titles, inherited money, or invitations to royal marriages. If the family is large enough, it will continually feed the rung of commoners. Second, royalty, nobility, and gentry eat better than the common people and enjoy better prenatal care, thus insuring their offspring a better chance at survival in the long run. So the perk of being of royal descent is the greater probability of being alive today.

‘The Story of Churches of Christ’ (Book Review)

When someone asks about the history of the independent Churches of Christ, there are a number of valuable websites, books, and other resources to direct them toward. However – Surprise! Surprise! – not everyone wants to read a systematic study, especially if they have little prior knowledge or interest in theological intricacies and denominational history. Enter Douglas A. Foster and his The Story of Churches of Christ (ACU Press, 2013) to the rescue.

Like other books on the Stone-Campbell Movement, Foster begins looking at how the religious group was birthed by Baptist, Presbyterian, and Enlightenment thinking. He briefly touches on controversies over the Trinity, baptism, instrumental music, and so on, giving a reader a rough idea of how these disagreements originated and how they were (mis)handled over time. The book also provides a good overview of what the Churches of Christ look like today, noting the unfortunate transition from the early reformers’ dedication to church unity regardless of differing opinions to the current members’ commitment to only worshiping with those in perfect agreement with them on creed and practices.

The Story of Churches of Christ is neither for academic nor church Bible class use. It’s a simple tract-sized document (38 pages) designed to give both CofC members and non-members a rough idea of how that branch of the Restoration Movement began. QR codes are strategically placed in the book to direct the reader to websites with more information. Those more familiar with the movement’s history may find the book a quick refresher, and we can all recognize the value of a short work that’s inexpensive and convenient to give out to seekers and visitors.

I received a complimentary copy of The Story of Churches of Christ from representatives Abilene Christian University Press as a registration gift during the 2013 Pepperdine University Bible Lectureship in Malibu, California.