Remembering Karl Kutz (1962 - 2025)

I was in the first class Dr. Karl Kutz taught at Multnomah University in the fall of 1996. My best friend, Jill, and I sat near the front in the middle of the long row of chairs bolted to the floor with built-in desks in L101. The class was “History and Poetry,” where we studied the Old Testament books of Joshua through Song of Songs. It was a lot of ground to cover, and Dr. Kutz was fresh from his PhD program at the University of Madison, Wisconsin. He gave us copious notes on every book in this section of the Bible, always with charts. We were his guinea pigs. He was finding out in real time what undergraduates could handle and what he could expect of us. At the same time, we were finding out what we were capable of learning.

My most vivid memory—and even this is fuzzy 29 years later—was the day he taught about the Song of Songs. I can’t recall which approach he took to the book—whether he read it as an allegory for God’s love for Israel or as a human love poem. What I remember is that Jill and I raised our hands and asked lots of questions of whichever view he took, skeptical of whatever he had just taught. We had a good rapport by that point; our questions meant no disrespect. We were engaging in the kind of sparring that he welcomed in the classroom. What happened next I will never forget. Dr. Kutz tipped his head to one side and said, “Well, I’ll have to think more about this.” We moved on to the next topic. The next day in class, Dr. Kutz handed out new notes on the Song of Songs. He had spent his evening rethinking his view and changed his mind completely. His new handouts reflected what he now believed to be a better way of reading the book.

I was stunned. I grew up in a family where, when challenged, we doubled down to better prove our point. Karl modeled humility, curiosity, and teachability. He was not threatened by our questions. In fact, he was grateful for the way they made him think.

Karl was so devoted to teaching well that he was constantly revising the charts and timelines he made from scratch. These became overheads, thin plastic sheets paired with laser printed paper and fed through a machine that burned the ink into the plastic so it could be projected on a screen hung at the front of the classroom. Never one to waste, in years to come, Karl would give me the overheads he had updated for his own lectures. Eventually more than a foot of space on my bookshelf was devoted to 3-ring binders with his class notes and cast-off overheads. I’ve kept them all.

Karl invited me to be his TA. For several years I graded tests, created handouts, edited documents, and recorded grades in spreadsheets. Once he asked me to read through Chronicles alongside Samuel and Kings, highlighting any differences between them. Another time he gave me the entire semester’s worth of Greek reading for fourth year Greek (a class I had not taken). My assignment was to underline all the words I didn’t know so that he could create a glossary of unfamiliar words. Since I had taken 3 years of Greek, I was in exactly the position the average student would be entering that class. It was a sensible plan, since Karl had difficulty remembering that not everyone knew as much as he did. He regularly assumed that others contained mental dictionaries in multiple languages and that we had retained everything we ever read or heard in class, the way he did.

One day Karl and I talked about the possibility of me going on for more schooling. His advice was clear and direct. “Carmen, you should not pay for a PhD. By the time you get to that level, someone should be paying you to go to school.” That seemed terribly unrealistic. I thought he had again forgotten that we were not all as brilliant as he was. But he was right. He understood the academic world better than I did at that point. And eventually, someone was paying for my PhD and offering me a stipend besides.

Karl arrived at Multnomah having mastered Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic, Syriac, Akkadian, Ugaritic, German, and French. I remember when Karl began teaching himself Chinese so he could read a manuscript related to martial arts. When I was a student he taught fencing as a PE class. Karl’s curiosity to learn new languages and skills was unquenchable.

As brilliant as he was, Karl was patient, others-centered, an encourager. And oh, how I’ll miss his infectious laugh! He and Laurie traveled all the way from Oregon to Colorado for our wedding at their own expense. He prepared a toast for the reception in true Karl fashion. Never one to work off the cuff, Karl had categorized all the “I” words in the English dictionary according to their part of speech (noun, verb, adjective, etc.). Then he composed his toast using almost entirely words that began with “I” for Imes. That’s just how he rolled. 

One day a couple of years later we sat at his computer—I had pulled up an extra chair beside him—while we scoured a website of Hebrew baby girl names. I had graduated by then, and was pregnant and auditing his Hebrew class with my free alumnus audit. He found the name Eliana, which we both loved. My husband and I had lost our first child to miscarriage, and it devastated us. Karl sat with me in that sacred space of emerging hope that our second child would be born healthy. The name Eliana means “My God has answered”—such a meaningful name for the child who was an answer to our anguished prayers.

Eliana was born during spring break. I spent the rest of the semester recovering and adjusting to motherhood, so I wasn’t there on the day classes resumed after spring break. Students filed into the classroom nervous to find out how much Hebrew they still knew after a week away. Karl put a Hebrew passage on the overhead for them to translate together. They struggled through the unfamiliar words and expressions—“after only one-and-a-half hours in pain of childbirth in the house of the sick . . .”—until they gradually figured it out. [Note: I labored much longer than this—about 22 hours—but Eliana was born just 90 minutes after we arrived at the hospital.] Recognizing that all the students would want to hear the news, Karl had composed a birth announcement for Eliana entirely in Hebrew. A few years later, Eliana sat astride the rocking horse in his living room while we visited—a horse he carved himself as a gift to his wife.

I was among the small group of students who sat around the lunch table with the two of them at the Old Spaghetti Factory to celebrate Karl’s 40^th birthday. Our birthdays were just one day (and 14 years) apart. He wasn’t quite old enough to be my father, but he was like a much older brother or fun uncle.

Karl was honest about his struggles. His wife’s health challenges absorbed much of their married years and made it impossible to think of having children. I remember those years as a dark cloud hovered over their home while they tried one unsuccessful treatment after another. Karl loved children, and it broke his heart not to be a father. He channeled his energies into his niece and nephew—his pride and joy—and into his students, counting us as part of his family. At his memorial service, his colleague Becky Josberger read a message he wrote to all his former students, telling us that we were like the children he never had.

Karl and his wife supported us monthly when we became missionaries. Later, when I entered fully into academic life we enjoyed catching up at conferences. I remember one such occasion when we sat on the floor in the conference center for a long talk. It was 2012. I think he had divorced by then. I remember him sharing openly with me about his wrestling with God. I don’t remember Karl teaching me in class about lament, but he lived it in a way that taught all who knew him. He was intellectually honest, which meant he had nothing to hide from his students.

Some seven years or more after I had graduated from Multnomah, I was reading a book in seminary whose approach to Genesis 1 was revolutionary. I wrote to Karl asking if he’d ever read the book or heard of this approach. I needed it to pass the Karl test before I embraced it. I knew he would not be threatened by a new idea. His response to my email was straightforward: “Yes, that’s how I’ve pretty much always read Genesis 1.” My jaw dropped. How had I studied and worked with him so closely for at least four years and not known this? How had we never talked about it before? The reason was simple. He arrived at Multnomah during my Sophomore year, after I had already taken Pentateuch.

Later he gave me a full set of his notes on the Pentateuch, just in case they would be useful to me. Now that he’s gone, I’m grateful that I’ve kept them all these years.

I was sitting at my desk at Biola University the day I got Karl’s email with his diagnosis and bleak prospects. I let out a cry of dismay and the tears started flowing. My husband responded to my plea instantly, coming across campus to my office to hold me and let me cry. Although Karl and I have rarely had the chance to see one another these past 10 years, just knowing he’s there for me has been enough. He believed in me, trained me, hired me as his TA, supported us financially, and cheered me on every step of the way. Karl never doubted that I would get a PhD and follow in his footsteps. When we saw each other at conferences he told me how proud he was of me. But after that initial email about Karl’s diagnosis, I never saw him again.

During the last year of Karl’s life, he stewarded all the energy he had left between chemo and radiation treatments for writing. In the week before he entered hospice care, he completed his commentary on Isaiah. At his memorial service, Becky shared the story of how on the day Karl announced he would no longer be able to send or respond to emails, his publisher had an emergency meeting. They offered him four contracts for books he had already written, which he signed on his deathbed.

The world of publishing has changed considerably in the almost 30 years since Karl started teaching. An author must not only be smart and able to communicate well, but they must have a public platform with a built-in audience. Not only was Karl nearly silent on social media, but now he’s no longer living. The fact that a publisher was not only willing to offer him one contract, but FOUR is a testament to the impeccable quality of his work and of his character. Karl wrote by teaching on paper, creating clear and helpful synopses of what he saw in the biblical text. He poured out his life for the sake of those around him, giving generously whatever he had. I’m so grateful that we’ll be able to continue learning from Karl in the years to come.

For most of his academic career, Karl studied the book of Job. He also lived it. His years of lament gave him strength of character and depth of empathy as well as a keen sense of his own need. Becky shared that in his last year on earth Karl finally felt like he was experiencing the end of Job’s story—seeing fruit where he had long waited empty handed.

Karl has been part of most of the major milestones of my adult life—our dating and engagement, our wedding, our miscarriage, the birth of our oldest daughter, our work as missionaries in the Philippines, my PhD journey, when I began teaching as adjunct faculty at Multnomah and we were finally colleagues, my move into a full-time position in Canada, the publication of my books. I received tenure just a couple of weeks before he died. In the week he died, Multnomah closed its doors forever.

The death of my alma mater will now perpetually be linked with the death of one of my dearest mentors. The tragedy of Multnomah’s closing means that I’ll never have to see what would become of Multnomah without Karl. His absence there is unimaginable to me.

How I would love to be a fly on the wall as Karl asks the Lord all his questions. I picture them walking through gardens, talking and laughing, and stopping to investigate each new discovery. By the time you and I arrive, Karl will have a 3-ring binder waiting with timelines and charts of all the things about heaven that he thinks would be helpful for newcomers to know. He’ll start with an apology for the things he got wrong in his class notes and then excitedly show us how things really are.

That’s just Karl. He was, and is, a gift to the world!

A Personal Announcement: My Biola Story

Choosing which college to attend is a big decision. I remember back in high school as I was wrestling through my options, the guidance counselor at my Christian school went on a trip to California to visit several schools. When she returned, she sought me out to say that she had found the perfect place for me: Biola University.

That was 1994.

I was stubborn. I had already made up my mind to go to Multnomah Bible College in Portland, where I planned to study Greek and Missions so I could become a Bible translator. I had my future all planned out.

Fast forward to 2021. 

I've finally come around. I've accepted a job offer from Biola University. I'll be joining their faculty this fall as Associate Professor of Old Testament. This summer we're moving from Alberta, Canada to Southern California. It's a wee bit warmer and a whole lot more crowded. We're in for quite a change!

We have loved living in Canada. Three Hills is a friendly town with a lot of charm. Prairie College is a harmonious place to work, with eager students, devoted colleagues, and a solid mission. We've loved our church and our kids' school. But by the time you read this, we'll have said our tearful goodbyes and headed south. We're feeling drawn into this new work. In so many ways, the timing is right.

You see, I left out the middle of the story.

In 2013, I was on the home stretch of my doctoral program. Biola was looking for a professor of OT for the graduate school division of Talbot School of Theology. They specifically wanted someone to teach Hebrew. They urged me to apply. I did, and made it all the way through the process to the campus interview, but felt unsettled about it. Hebrew is not where I shine. I love teaching English Bible classes. And I'm especially fond of freshmen. We also weren't sure about living in California. Our hearts were in Oregon. Precisely then, my dissertation hit a brick wall. I had more work to do than I could possibly finish in time, so I pulled out of the process. But Biola didn't forget about me.

That was seven years ago. Since then I finished my dissertation, taught at two of my favorite schools in Oregon (neither of which offered me full-time work), and spent four years investing at Prairie College. When Biola approached me last year about a possible tenure-track position in Old Testament teaching undergraduates, we were ready. Friends, I'll be the first woman in Biola's 113-year history to hold a full-time faculty position in Old Testament. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know my new colleagues during the lengthy application process, and I'm excited to join the team. 

Biola is a world-class institution offering a robust liberal arts education. Biola says this about its academic reputation:

U.S. News & World Report ranks Biola as a first-tier national university and on its selective list of universities with “Best Undergraduate Teaching.” The Princeton Review includes Biola on its list of “Best Western Colleges.”

I am thrilled to get to participate in their mission of providing "biblically centered education, scholarship and service -- equipping men and women in mind and character to impact the world for the Lord Jesus Christ."

Other fun facts: 

• Biola (1908), Prairie (1923), and Multnomah (1922) were all birthed as part of the Bible College movement. Did you know that BIOLA started as an acronym? It used to stand for Bible Institute of Los Angeles. Biola still offers a strong 30-credit Bible core for every student.
• Biola has nearly as many faculty (200) as Prairie College has students (250), and Biola has more undergraduate students (4000) than Three Hills has residents (3400). In fact, California has more residents (39.5 million) than all of Canada put together (37.5 million)! Quite a change of pace!
• Biola is farther from "home" (Portland, OR) than Prairie is. In case your Canadian geography is rusty, Alberta is directly east of British Colombia and north of Montana. Three Hills, Alberta, is 14.5 hours northeast of Portland, while LA is about 16 hours south. However, we no longer have an international border to cross.
• Because of the pandemic, both of my "campus visits" were online. Biola is very thorough, and there were more than 15 steps to the process, including lots of interviews on Zoom. Thankfully, I spoke in chapel at Biola 18 months ago, before the pandemic hit. I also took our oldest daughter there for a college visit 4 years ago, so I have a pretty good idea what the campus and surrounding area are like.
• Half of my teaching load (two classes each semester) will be BBST 209: History and Literature of the Old Testament. The rest of my classes will be electives, which will allow me to teach in my areas of current research.
• Our home in Three Hills sold in less than 24 hours, with no realtor, no listing, no sign, and only one showing. The new owners had been praying for us for months and felt called to come to Three Hills to work with young adults.
• God provided a condo for us to rent month-to-month while we look for a house to buy. It's in Cerritos, which means "Little Hills" -- so we're moving from Three Hills to Little Hills! This condo will be our 12th address in 23 years of marriage.
• We are STILL eating cherries from our 2017 bumper crop. I wonder what kind of fruit God will provide in our next home? (Update: lemons and tangerines!)

Best Books for Academics Learning Their Craft

So you have your PhD. Now what? If you're fortunate enough to land a job, even a contingent one, how do you transition from slaving away at a dissertation in the bowels of the library to joining a faculty and standing at a lectern? The books below have helped me navigate this transition. I wish I could share them with every academic I know. 

Disclaimer: I didn't set out to write a commercial for InterVarsity Press. IVP just happens to consistently hit home runs by publishing books that I want to read! They aren't paying me to write this. I'm sharing it in hopes that these books can help you reach your full potential.

Trying to engage a classroom of 18-year olds is a far cry from spending long hours in the library laboring over a dissertation. Mike Kibbe (Great Northern) gets this, and he's written a wonderful guide to navigating the transition from what you've been trained to do (i.e., research and write) and what you're now hired to do (i.e., captivate students and help them learn). From Research to Teaching: A Guide to Beginning Your Classroom Career (IVP 2021) should be required reading for every newly minted PhD in Bible, theology, and related disciplines. Honestly, I couldn't put it down. Mike writes with candor and teaches with creativity. 

I'm 5 years in to the teaching profession, and I still believe it's the #bestjobintheworld. However, its rhythms and challenges are so unique that only an experienced insider can help someone like me find sustainable ways to navigate the academic year. Christina Bieber Lake (Wheaton) is the faculty mentor I wish I had in real life. The Flourishing Teacher: Vocational Renewaal for a Sacred Profession (IVP 2020) procedes month by month through the academic year, offering honest reflections and sage advice. I have savored each month's chapter for most of this school year. Last weekend I indulged myself by reading to the very end. What a gift to help me find perspective and cultivate joy in the journey!

THIS is the book I wish I'd had ten years ago. Power Women: Stories of Motherhood, Faith, and the Academy (IVP 2021) is a collection of essays by academic mothers about how they've navigated the dual callings of raising children and being a professor -- simultaneously. Men, before you tune out, you need this book, too, especially if you work in academic administration. This book will show you proven ways to recruit and retain female faculty in your institution. It's a treasure trove of ideas for how to help academic moms flourish. I had no women to model for me how to get an MA with small children, and few who could strategize with me about how to navigate a PhD with school-aged children. I am currently the only academic mom at my institution. How many other women out there are alone and need support? Power Women is a wonderful first step. Editors Nancy Wang Yuen (Biola) and Deshonna Collier-Goubil (Azusa) have done us a great service by bringing us the voices of a diverse group of women who have approached the quest for work-life balance in unique ways.

Write Better: A Lifelong Editor on Craft, Art, and Spirituality (IVP 2019) is a winsome guide written by one of IVP's star editors, Andrew T. Le Peau. His practical advice will revitalize your writing. Not everyone senses a calling or desire to write, but in most educational institutions it's a must. Writing is the currency of the academy -- the surest path to tenure, to impacting your field, to building a brand, and to reaching a broader audience with important ideas. Learn to do it well.

I read Institutional Intelligence: How to Build an Effective Organization (IVP 2017) when I transitioned from adjunct to full-time faculty. I wanted to know how to serve effectively in my institution. Gordon T. Smith is president of Ambrose University in Calgary. He has a keen sense of how to lead well and how to help others learn to lead well. Every generation has a tendency to try to re-invent the wheel, but lasting change comes through healthy institutions. My own passion will give out in time. A healthy institution harnesses the passion of a whole team and makes it last a generation or more. Though most professors would not identify the faculty meeting as the highlight of their week, a well-led faculty meeting can be a tangible generator of lasting change. I blogged about this book over at The Well if you'd like to learn more.

Gary Burge (Wheaton) has been around the block a few times. Looking back at a productive career, he reflects on distinct seasons of his own life in which priorities shifted and new goals coalesced. Where The Flourishing Teacher is a month-by-month guide to the academic year, Burge's book delivers on its title: Mapping Your Academic Career: Charting the Course of a Professor's Life (IVP 2015). It takes a much longer view and identifies the promises and pitfalls of each decade. I plan to keep this handy throughout my career.

Do you have another favorite that I haven't listed here? I'd love to hear about it in the comments below. I never want to stop improving at the art of being a professor!

My Reverse CV

Photo by Dylan Collette on Unsplash

If you've watched me from a distance, it might look like things come easily for me or that everything works in my favor. It's simply not true. 

As academics we usually don't advertise our failures -- rejections, unsuccessful applications, awards we didn't win, discouragements -- at least not publicly. But failure is par for the course. 

Academics just getting started need to know this. It's demoralizing to be rejected if you're assuming that your career is over before it even gets started.

So here's a select list of my academic disappointments spanning the past 10 years (at least those I could recall today):

• article rejected by JETS
• article rejected by Tyndale Bulletin
• did horribly on my first Hebrew exam in seminary (after trying to teach myself)
• PhD application rejected by Princeton
• PhD application accepted provisionally (with deficiencies) by Asbury Theological Seminary
• barely passed my Theological German exam
• did not score well on the written portion of the GRE
• a whole chapter of my dissertation, representing months of work, hit the cutting floor
• first dissertation submission was unsuccessful (18 more months of work to do before resubmission)
• 7 unsuccessful teaching job applications (Ambrose University, George Fox University [3x], Palm Beach Atlantic University, Regent College, Biola University [withdrew due to dissertation delay])
• article rejected by New Man Magazine
• article rejected by Christianity Today
• grant application rejected by the Wabash Center for Teaching and Learning
• dissertation rejected for publication in the Siphrut series (Eisenbrauns)
• ETS paper proposal rejected (Psalms)
• SBL paper proposal rejected (Biblical Law)
• did not win the SBL Regional Scholar Award for the Pacific NW after being nominated
• unsuccessful book proposal with Zondervan
• unsuccessful book ideas with Eerdmans and IVP
• Bearing God's Name did not win the following awards for which it was entered: Word Guild, Alberta Book Award, Foundations (Midwestern), IVP Reader's Choice Award, Christianity Today

When I received my first rejection letter, I shared the sad news with one of my mentors. He told me he could wallpaper a whole room of his house with rejection letters. (I was surprised to hear that!) Not every idea is a good one. Not every application is the right timing. Sometimes the rejection has very little to do with you. Sometimes the reviewer is just having a bad day.

That failed Hebrew exam? I went back to the books, tried again, and passed.

Those discouraging PhD applications don't tell the whole story, either. I ended up with a full-ride scholarship to Wheaton College with a stipend, in spite of my mediocre score on the written portion of the GRE.

That dissertation that didn't make it to the defense the first time? Two years later I defended successfully with only minor revisions (a committee member said "flying colors"). And although the first series I pitched it to rejected it, the second one (with the SAME publisher!) said "yes" and the book went on to win a prestigious award from the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies.

That dissertation chapter that hit the cutting floor? It became the basis for Bearing God's Name, which is in its 7th printing in just 13 months (and has almost won several awards).

Those failed job applications? They have led to some wonderful friendships with people who were on hiring committees as well as those who landed the jobs. Those applications have led to other opportunities as well -- speaking and writing and podcast interviews and collaboration. In short, I learned a lot and gained new friends in the process. Just today I spoke at Regent College, a connection facilitated by my unsuccessful job interview there.

Remembering these "failures" reminds me that no rejection spells the end of God's calling on my life, or of yours. In some seasons, it takes creativity to find ways to be faithful to God's calling. I landed a job here on the frozen prairies of Alberta at a small school where I am the whole Old Testament department. Not everyone is that lucky. 

If you're still waiting for good news, hang in there. Keep plugging away at your work. Rejection is not a dead end. It's simply a step on the journey. I can't promise that your hard work will turn into a tenure-track position, but in my experience, none of gets wasted. Your day will come.

N. T. Wright and a Book for Both Bedside Tables

What books are sitting on your bedside table?

About 10 years ago I had an opportunity to meet New Testament scholar and Anglican bishop the Right Rev. Dr. N. T. Wright. We shook hands. Although it was spontaneous, I knew instantly what I wanted to say to him. It went something like this:

N.T. Wright is an especially gifted communicator
who writes for the academy and the church
(Photo: C Imes)

"It's an honor to meet you, Dr. Wright. My husband and I would like to thank you. You are nearly the only writer who has the distinction of appearing on both of our bedside tables."

I was in seminary at the time. I spent my days reading books like his Jesus and the Victory of God. My husband, on the other hand, did not gravitate towards non-fiction, and certainly not academic books. But he picked up a copy of Wright's Simply Christian and loved it. What a gift to have found a respected scholar who also had the ability to connect with wider audiences, beyond the academy! Wright gave us things to talk about as a couple that connected our worlds. That was just what we needed.

I can think of two other biblical scholars whose books my husband and I have both read and enjoyed: Sandra L. Richter and Christopher J. H. Wright. Scholars like Wright, Wright, and Richter are my models. They know their stuff academically, but they also take the time to communicate in an accessible way for the church at large.

That's what makes me so excited about my new book release. I've done the scholarly research, defended the dissertation, and published it as well as other articles on related subjects. But this new book is totally down-to-earth. Our 17-year-old daughter read the entire manuscript of Bearing God's Name before we sent it off to the publisher so that we could get rid of all the words she didn't know.

This one's for the church. It's for men and women and teens and grandparents who struggle to know what to do with the Old Testament. It's for people who want to obey Scripture but aren't sure where to start. It's for new

Academic and Accessible books by C.J.H. Wright
and Sandra Richter (Photo: C Imes)

Christians as well as Christians who've been around the block a few times and still feel like they're missing something. It's for Earl, who hasn't read a book since high school other than a welding manual. It's for Marilyn, who kindly tried to read my dissertation and just got frustrated. It's for my parents, who have cheered me on for decades and now can finally benefit from all the hard work. It's for my former students, who can re-experience Torah class and share it with their families.

My published dissertation along with my new 
book, Bearing God's Name, which is an
accessible book that presents what I learned
(Photo: C Imes)

Bearing God's Name doesn't officially release until December 10th, but I'm already getting messages from readers almost every day who say that it's making a difference in their lives.

Not sure which book to choose for your bedside table? Here's a comparison:

If you're married and anything like my husband and me, you might need to pick up one of each.

Guest Post: Antonios Finitsis, editor of "Dress and Clothing in the Hebrew Bible"

As a follow-up to my recent post on our regional SBL research group, the mastermind behind our research group and the editor of our project wanted to add a few words. Antonios Finitsis is associate professor of Hebrew Bible at Pacific Lutheran University. Here's what he has to say:

Antonios Finitsis (left) with members of the second research group
 on dress in the Hebrew Bible (Pacific Lutheran University, 2018):
Jennifer Brown Jones, Sara Koenig, Carmen Imes, Shannon Parrott,
and Jenny Matheny (Photo: Brady Alan Beard). Several more
scholars joined us in 2019 for a new round of collaboration.

 

     Academics, we all love our footnotes, those long litanies of names and sources that are the hallmark of our work. It is a matter of ethics, respect, and attributing credit where credit is due. It is also recognition of the fact that we all stand on the shoulders of giants. Any research is indebted to those you came before and devoted their minds to exploration and discovery. Thus, I would argue, it also an expression of gratitude towards the labor of scholars who shared their findings with us. Citations are indispensable for our work.
     In that spirit, I have to refer to my undergraduate Hebrew Bible professor in the University of Athens: Elias Oikonomou. He was the scholar who introduced me to biblical archaeology and exploded my imagination with his work on biblical ecology. His mind was a spring-source of new concepts and I was often taken by his thoughts. One of them, that apparently had a profound impact on me, was what he called: “collective thinking.” He explained that biblical scholars do most of their work in isolation, however, he believed that working and thinking together could lead to even greater discoveries. Today, I would add that it also leads to even greater gratification and contributes towards better community.
     Our Pacific Northwest research group was conceived on the theoretical basis of what professor Oikonomou called: “collective thinking.” I even likened its workings to a “think-tank” in the call for papers the year that I introduced it to the regional conference. My goal was double. First, I wanted to prove that biblical scholars in our side of the country do great work. Second, I wanted to build community. Higher Education institutions in our region are not as close to one-another as the ones on the East Coast and more importantly we do not have institutionalized annual conferences as they do. The result is a true Wild West loner feeling for all of us. If I were going to do this research group right, I would potentially affect our regional prestige and our sense of community.
     So the call for the Research Group on Clothing went out in 2014 and, as they typically say, the rest is history and in our case it is also a book. All of us who study history though know that nothing simply happens. In our case there are two behind the scenes details that I wish to disclose. First, nothing would have happened if the scholars gathered had not brought their A-game with them. We all worked hard and inspired one another to surpass our expectations. Hence we put forward our book with pure joy and celebration. Then, as Carmen astutely observed above, the academic world is filled with fragile egos and I would add: with bitter feuds. Had that being the case with our research group, history would have been very different right now. The intellectual humility and spirit of generosity that this group of scholars brought and cultivated was unparalleled. I still remember the euphoria we all experienced at the end of our conferences. It was not a feeling anyone could have foreseen or construct artificially. That was a sign of a unique collaboration. Of course, our scholarship will be evaluated on the basis of its quality and we will be delighted to be engaged in dialogue. While the enthusiasm for our findings might fade, the memory of our community will be forever vibrant and energizing.

Thanks, again, Tony, for pouring your energy into this community of scholars and making the Pacific Northwest a truly collaborative place to work!

Our Regional Research Group: A Model for Academic Collaboration

One of the highlights of my academic career thus far has been participating in a unique research group in the Pacific Northwest. When we moved to Oregon in 2014, I discovered that the Hebrew Bible section for our region of the Society of Biblical Literature was engaged in a multi-year research project on clothing. I was in the midst of finishing my doctoral dissertation, which included a study of the garments worn by Israel's high priest, so I proposed a paper that would dive deeper into that topic. My paper proposal was accepted, and I began work on the most rigorous interdisciplinary project I had ever undertaken -- researching the production of dyes and fabrics in ancient times, the styles of clothing worn by the elites in cultures surrounding Israel, the Hebrew terms used for fabrics and colors, and the overall literary structure of the tabernacle instructions in Exodus. I was trying to get at the symbolic significance of Aaron's garments in their literary and cultural contexts.

Research sections of SBL can be quite competitive and critical. If you're lucky enough to have a paper proposal accepted, it can be an isolating experience to present your research among academic peers who then pompously critique it. Once I gave a paper at the national SBL meeting on the history of interpretation of a passage. I had just 20 minutes to survey 3,000 years of interpretive history, and one of the only four people in attendance lit into me for failing to mention Philo. Not everyone is that unfriendly, but the academic world is full of fragile egos, so people sometimes try to protect their turf and climb to the top by making others look stupid. I compensated for my nervousness with the clothing research group by exploring every possible angle of my topic.

I needn't have worried. This research group was entirely different. Thanks to the vision of Antonios Finitsis, the research group on Dress and Clothing in the Hebrew Bible is a warmly collaborative environment involving both junior and senior scholars that enables each member to produce his or her best work.

Here's how it works: Each member commits to attending the group for 2-3 consecutive years. In year one, each participant presents a paper on the topic of clothing in the Hebrew Bible and responds to someone else's paper. All the papers are distributed before the meeting and we all read all the other papers so that feedback can be prepared in advance. Each of us leaves the meeting with valuable suggestions for improvement.

In year 2, we present a revised version of our paper that incorporates the input of our fellow scholars. We also provide a formal response to one of the other revised papers and hear another respondent to our work. Following this second round of feedback, each of us revises our papers again, preparing a final version to be presented in year 3.

The essays are then collected for publication, resulting in a volume that is far more coherent and integrated than the average essay collection. The product of our research, entitled Dress and Clothing in the Hebrew Bible (T&T Clark), was released last month, the culmination of 5 years of scholarly collaboration.

Our group included Ehud Ben Zvi, Scott R. A. Starbuck, Ian D. Wilson, Sean E. Cook, Sara M. Koenig, Joshua Joel Spoelstra, Shawn W. Flynn, and myself. We are a rather eclectic bunch. Though we share an interest in the Hebrew Bible, our group includes people from Jewish, Catholic, mainline Protestant, and Evangelical traditions teaching at a wide range of institutions, from the University of Alberta to Gonzaga to Seattle Pacific to Prairie College. We span an international border, including Americans and Canadians.

I learned so much from my colleagues -- both in their own papers and in their responses to mine. By the end of this project, we have more than just a published volume. We have become friends -- helping each other with rides and housing for regional meetings, offering career advice, and cheering each other on in our work. I am so grateful for Tony's leadership, and thrilled to be participating in a second round of papers with another stellar group of scholars that will become a second volume on this topic. (This time around I'm working on clothing metaphor in imprecatory psalms). This unique approach to collaboration is now attracting scholars from as far away as Ontario, Colorado, and Utah.

Drawing of Pharaoh Seti I with the goddess Maat
at Abydos by Abigail Guthrie (Photo: C Imes)

A special bonus as I worked on the first volume was discovering that my TA, Abigail Guthrie, has quite the talent for drawing. Two of her illustrations made it into the book. Congratulations, Abby, and thanks for your great contribution!

Book Review: Richard Mouw's "Restless Faith"

Do you wrestle with your evangelical identity? Do you ever wonder whether it's time to throw in the towel and walk away?

If so, this book is for you.

As president of Fuller Seminary and former professor at Calvin College, Richard J. Mouw has spent many decades as an evangelical. All of them, he says, were restless years. This book is his explanation of why he's choosing to stay.

These are trying times for evangelicals. Cultural pressures from the outside and deep disagreements on the inside make evangelicalism an uncomfortable place for many Christians. The most recent national election in the US, to cite just one example, threatened to split families right down the middle.

Mouw takes us behind the scenes in the institutions where he has served to demonstrate that evangelicalism has always been this way. He reminds us of the core tenets that hold such a diverse group together, suggesting that these central values -- belief in the need for conversion, the authority of the Bible, the centrality of the cross, and an emphasis on daily discipleship -- cannot be found in this combination anywhere else.

He talks about Billy Graham, Christianity Today, Ann Voskamp, World Vision, and the National Association for Evangelicals on the one hand, as well as Norman Vincent Peale, Robert Schuller, Rob Bell, and the National Council of Churches on the other. We learn about his efforts to promote Mormon-Evangelical and other types of inter-faith dialogue without watering down his own Evangelical commitments. We read of his lonely engagement in the civil rights movement and politics during the 1960s when many Evangelicals' only concern was to "save souls." He wrestles with the individual and communal aspects of salvation and considers the value of both hymns and contemporary worship songs. In the end, he advocates "holding on while staying restless" as an Evangelical.

Speaking as an academic, I did not find the book to be heavy reading, but rather patchwork autobiography in accessible prose. Yet one does not have to know Richard Mouw to appreciate his reflections -- his wisdom shines through on every page and offers hope for Evangelicals who are feeling squirmy in today's politicized climate. He concludes,

"For me, the only way to be a properly functioning evangelical is to keep arguing about what it means to be an evangelical. Restlessness in claiming that label has long been the way I have kept moving. I hope that many of us can stay restless as we hold on while exploring together whether the best way to remain faithful to the legacy is to let go of the label. . . . For the present, I am inclined to go with the second option -- working for evangelical renewal, rather than simply allowing the movement's label to be co-opted by leaders who have departed from the best of the legacy." (174)

If you share his restlessness, this book may be just the thing you need to refresh your perspective and refuel your evangelical commitment. Mouw does not suggest that we hold doggedly to the label "evangelical," but he offers good reasons to keep it for the time being.

Academic Prayer Series

As a regular contributor for InterVarsity's blog for Women in the Academy and Professions, The Well, I've submitted several prayers tailored for academics. Here's a list for easy reference with a selection from each one, plus a bonus from my own blog:

A College Student's Back-to-School Prayer

Library at Regent College, Vancouver (Photo: C Imes)

Sharpen my mind, so that I can learn to think clearly and critically.

Melt my resistanceto new ideas that are good and right and true.

A Prayer for a New Place

Grant me patience to learn, flexibility to adapt, joy to share with others, and space to grieve the loss of what I’ve left behind.

Grant me energy to make decisions and adjust to new procedures and understand the culture of my new environment. Help me to establish healthy rhythms — spiritually, emotionally, and physically. As I settle in, let me never lose this sense that I desperately need you.

A Professor's Prayer

Grant me wisdom to manage my time well so that I can stand before my classes prepared.Grant me the grace to let go of misplaced guilt for what I cannot be or do.

Grant me discerning eyes, that I may see my students as you see them and that I may love them as you love, that I may anticipate potential mental blocks, that I may discover the key to unlock their desire to learn. Let me not get in the way.

A Scholar's Prayer

Quicken my mind, that I may discern what is right and understand more fully the complexities of the subject that is before me today. 

Grant me diligence to stay on task and ignore distraction. At the end of this day may I be able to stand before you unashamed of the work I have done and left undone.

A Prayer for Academic and Professional Conferences

Help me to choose wisely between the myriads of options available to me — papers, seminars, conversations, exhibits, work, play, rest. May I discern what is best and let go of what is not.

Above all, may I bring you glory today as I bear your name in the academy and among all those whose talents and energies make this conference possible.

A Prayer for Writers 

Help me articulate truth beautifully, precisely, and lovingly. May I not be so enamored with the sound of my words that I neglect sound content. Enable me to present these ideas in a winsome way that does justice to their importance.

In a world full of distractions, help me focus on the tasks to which you have called me.

View from University of British Colombia Campus
(Photo: C Imes)

An End-of-Semester Prayer

Lord, here I stand at the end of another term. I have poured into my students — ideas, questions, caring, comments, time.
Now I entrust them to you.

Take what I have taught them and separate wheat from chaff. Blow away what I said that was empty or worthless. Help them to treasure the truth. May it nourish them in days ahead as they move into new contexts.

I hope these prayers inspire you to embrace your vocation as a Christian professor, if you are one. If not, perhaps they'll inspire you to craft your own prayers for your own vocation.

Projects in the Works . . .

My blog has been quiet lately, but not because I haven't been writing. Some longer-term projects took priority over the past few months. Here are some of the highlights:

Bearing God's Name: Why Sinai Still Matters (InterVarsity Academic)

This book is slated to release December 10, 2019, just in time for Christmas! It distills the key insights from my doctoral studies in non-academic language. If you've ever wanted to sit in on some of my classes, this book is for you. Together we'll journey to Sinai so that I can show you why Christians can't afford to ignore what happened there. From Sinai we traverse the rest of the Old Testament and into the New, seeing how Jesus and the early church found their identity and vocation at the mountain where they met God.

I can't reveal his name yet, but just wait until you see who has agreed to write the foreward! If you'll be in San Diego in November for ETS, IBR, or SBL, you can pick up copies there for all your friends. I'll carry a pen on me in case you'd like your copy signed.

Essay on the high priestly garments for Dress and Clothing in the Hebrew Bible (T&T Clark)

This book is the culmination of four years of research and collaboration with other scholars in the Pacific Northwest Region of the Society of Biblical Literature. My essay explores the theological and symbolic significance of Aaron's high priestly garments.

Our second cycle of research is already underway, with eight papers slated for presentation this weekend at our regional meeting. My contribution this time around is on clothing metaphors in the imprecatory psalms.  

Illustrated Psalms in Hebrew (GlossaHouse), co-authored with Matt Ayars

Like my Illustrated Exodus in Hebrew, this volume will pair the unedited Hebrew text with beautiful illustrations by Keith Neely and a fresh English translation for easy reference. It will be a great way to practice Hebrew while experiencing the theological riches of the Psalms. Watch for it in November.

Reading the Psalms with Augustine and friends (Sacred Roots Christian Classics Series)

Funded by the Lily Foundation, this new book series helps under-resourced pastors to access classic works in biblical studies, theology, spirituality, and mission. I'm editing the inaugural volume on the Psalms. The book will include devotional comments on each psalm from early Christian writers in updated language, with a special focus on Augustine.

Exodus (Baker Commentary on the Old Testament: Pentateuch series)

I've just agreed to take on this major 5-year project, a 700-page commentary on the book of Exodus for pastors, students, and scholars. Bill Arnold will serve as editor.

Watch for the Genesis volume in this series by John Goldingay. My contribution will be out by the time our youngest is in college.

As you can see, these span the range from accessible writing for the church to technical writing for the scholarly community, with resources for pastors and students in between. I love having a foot planted in both worlds and bridging the gap between them. It truly is the #bestjobintheworld!

A Foot in Two Worlds

Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don't be impressed with yourself. Don't compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.  —Galatians 6:4-5, The Message

Recently our entire campus participated in the Global Connections Conference, an opportunity to hear about some of the greatest needs in the world and consider how God might be calling us to contribute. It was at a conference just like this that Danny and I first explored the possibility of mission work, initiating what would become 15 years of service with SIM. Ironically, we resigned from SIM in order for me to pursue a full-time faculty position teaching Bible. I say "ironically" because now more than ever my work is leaning in to the ministry for which we long prepared and for which I'm best suited. By opening up the Scriptures with my students, I'm addressing the acute need of this generation to understand and encounter the Living Word.

But finding our identity and calling as a believer is not a one-time-fits-all experience. With every changing season of our lives or changing circumstance, we may find ourselves asking again: Who am I? How is God calling me to invest my time and training? I was back in that space during the conference, needing clarity about my role, prayerfully considering the path ahead. A barrage of opportunities had me feeling muddled. 

Foot in Two Worlds (Photo: C Imes)

Bishop Dr. Joseph D'Souza began by challenging us to see what God sees and to commit ourselves to doing something about it. In the course of sharing his own story, D'Souza said one thing that especially piqued my interest:  "I am called to have one foot firmly planted in the church and the other firmly planted in the world." His point was not prescriptive; he was not trying to impose his calling on anyone else. But his words brought my own calling more clearly into focus:

I work at the intersection between the church and the academy in the field of biblical studies. I am called to have one foot firmly planted in the church and the other firmly planted in the academy, with my work forming a bridge between these worlds. My aim in the church is to be and invite others to be lovers of God -- loving God with our minds as well as our actions. My aim in the academy is to produce quality scholarship, representing Christ well. I write and speak across this spectrum -- for laypeople, college and seminary students, pastors, and fellow academics -- showing the relevance of academic inquiry to those in the church and modeling respectful but discerning engagement with the academy.

Having this kind of clarity frees me to respond to invitations to speak, teach, write, endorse, edit, and consult without guilt. Rather than asking, 'What would my colleague do?' or 'What would my peer do at another institution?' or 'How will this look on my CV?' I can ask, 'Does this fit with my mission?' or 'Is this the work to which I've been called?'

I'm standing on the cusp of summer now. My grading is finished. In a few hours my students will have graduated and/or headed home. I have a whole slate of projects lined up for the summer that I am eager to begin! These projects align with my mission. A lot of no's and the occasional strategic yes has put me in a joyful place. Having made the careful exploration Paul describes, I'm eager to sink right in!

Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. --Galatians 6:4, The Message

Have you taken the time lately to prayerfully reconsider your involvements in light of how God wired you? The clarity of a personal mission statement can bring so much freedom. Instead of feeling pulled in multiple directions by every request for your time, you can develop a confident "no" that will make room for the right "yes." 

Introducing the Majority World Theology Series

I've written before about what we stand to gain when we read the Bible with the Global Church. It's getting easier to do just that.

Introducing the Majority World Theology Series.

The brain child of Gene Green, then at Wheaton College (now Academic Dean of NAIITS), K K Yeo of Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary, and Stephen Pardue of Asia Graduate School of Theology, this series is making a major contribution to Global Theology. With grant funding, Yeo, Pardue, and Green gather majority world scholars each year to contribute to a project on a specific theological theme written from their cultural location. They present their work at the annual meetings of the Evangelical Theological Society and the Institute for Biblical Research. It's been my privilege to witness several of these gatherings in person.

Scripture and Theology in Global Context at ETS 2015,
(left to right) Gene Green, Emily J. Choge Kerama, Jules 
Martinez, Raymond Aldred, Sung Wook Chung (photo: C Imes)

Stimulated by the conversation with other participants and observers, each contributor revises their essay for publication in a collected volume (published by Eerdmans and Langham Literature). Each chapter includes a bibliography of other sources on that theme from the author's area of the world. The result is a collage of insight from which the rest of us can learn. Philip Jenkins, author of The Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity and The New Face of Christianity: Believing the Bible in the Global South, gave the series a raving review in The Christian Century. 

The most recent volume to be released in the Majority World Theology Series includes essays by the following global scholars on the topic of the church:

Ecclesiology (2018)

Veli-Matti Karkkainen
Ruth Padilla De Borst (Costa Rica)
Wonsuk Ma (Korea)
Stephanie A Lowery (Kenya)
Carlos Sosa Siliezar (Guatemala)
Xiaxia E Xue (China)
Peter Nyende (Kenya / Uganda)
Munther Isaac (Palestine)

Four other volumes are already available from Eerdmans (pictured above):

Christology (2014)

The Trinity (2015)

Pneumatology (2016)

Soteriology (2017)

The volume on Eschatology will release in 2019. We can all look forward to that! (Did you catch what I did there?) A seventh series of conference presentations on the topic of Scripture is tentatively planned for 2019. Hopefully that means we'll see a volume on the doctrine of Scripture in 2020.

A huge thank you to Green, Pardue, and Yeo for their excellent work on this project. Most faculty in theology and biblical studies are acutely aware of the need to listen to global voices, but these men have turned that sentiment into action. The result is both affordable and immensely valuable.

The Surprisingly Simple Secret to Passing Your Classes

This won't take long. It isn't rocket science. I have just two rules, and I'm guessing they work in just about any class -- high school or college, trade school or university. I know they work in mine.

"If you're on time, you're late" - Ron Nickel (Photo: C Imes)

Rule Number 1: Show up to class on time.

Being habitually late or absent costs you more than you know. You miss the "vibe." You miss instruction. And you quickly become out of step with the rest of the class. As one of my colleagues said recently about real jobs in real life, "If you're on time, you're late." You should be arriving at least 5 minutes early so that you can get settled and ready to learn. Breezing in at the buzzer means that it will take the first few minutes for you to be fully present. Often these first few minutes are when important announcements are made about assignments and tests, or when goals are laid out for the session. Miss that and you'll start missing points unnecessarily. You also run the risk of distracting other students and annoying your professor. You want the professor to think well of you when grading your work. We try to be unbiased, but we are human, after all. It can't hurt to send the signal that you don't want to miss a thing.

Rule Number 2: Turn in every assignment.

I suspect that many students are waiting for the right mood or the ideal work environment in which to really buckle down. Others await a stroke of brilliance that will propel them to greatness. You don't need an ideal environment and you don't need to be brilliant. You just need to get it done. A mediocre score on a mediocre paper is far better than a zero on the magnum opus you didn't write. Consistency is a lot more important in life than genius. Just keep chipping away at it and silence those voices that tell you it's not good enough. It is. It's good enough to pass the class.

Pretty simple, isn't it? Show up and get 'er done.
Simple doesn't mean easy. School is a lot of work. But no one who has followed both of these rules has ever failed one of my classes. No one.

The Fine Print (for those who want more): 

Better done than late, but better late than never. Missing a deadline so that you can improve an assignment is not usually a good idea. One late assignment often snowballs into multiple late assignments because the class has moved on to the next project. All those deductions drag your score even lower, eating away at any advantage you thought you could gain by improving your work. Just bang it out and turn it in on time. 

Sometimes life gets overwhelming and you have to make a calculated decision to skip or skimp on an assignment. On the (hopefully) rare occasion that you just can't get it done, find out if you can turn it in late and take a deduction. Nothing drags your grade down like a zero. If this happens more than once a semester, it's a sign that you're trying to do too much or that you need outside support to help you get back on track. Scale back so you can get your money's worth from your classes.

While I have your attention, I should warn you: Don't take shortcuts. Plagiarizing an assignment or cheating on a test will not help you in the long run. You may feel like it's your only option because you don't have time or don't understand the material well enough to stand on your own two feet, but you do have other options. Talk to your professor. (We actually want to help you!) Talk to the TA. Seek help from library staff or classmates. Learn how to give credit where credit is due. There is no faster track to failure than cheating. Even if you don't get caught, you'll carry the weight of that lie until you come clean.

You can pass your classes. You just have to want it enough to do the work.