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Josef Sýkora

Numeri

Celebrating New Work from Dr. Josef Sykora

Today we get to celebrate something special in our community. Our Dean and Associate Professor of Biblical Interpretation, Dr. Josef Sykora, has just published a new book on the book of Numbers, , a rich theological reflection brought to life through the work of Slovak artist Daniel Pastirčák.

The book is written in Czech, so most of our students wont be able to read the full text yet, but the beauty of it is still worth honoring. The illustrations alone - textured, contemplative, and full of quiet movement - invite you into the wilderness scenes the book describes. They carry the feel of a people walking with God in the open, uncertain spaces of life.

Even in translation, the writing has the same spirit.
A few glimpses:

  • Israel moving under their own banners, each tribe seen and named, gathered around God dwelling.

  • The bearable heaviness of being - that human experience of loss, illness, and limits the ancient laws helped people honor instead of ignore.

  • The corrosive pull of envy, a rust that eats away at the heart, and the healing humility that restores community.

  • The calling of a priest - not self-appointed, but shaped through surrender, like bronze hammered and set onto the altar.

These reflections show Dr. Sykora gift: a way of reading Scripture that is honest about our humanity and attentive to the God who meets us in the desert.

91 the Illustrator
Daniel Pastirčák is a Slovak theologian, writer, and visual artist. After studying ceramics and restoration, he completed his theological training in Bratislava. He has published poetry, prose, children literature, and theological reflection. His work has been honored with the national Trojruža Award for its contribution to spiritual depth in children literature, and his writing has appeared on stage at the Slovak National Theatre and on screen through a film nominated for the Czech Lion. Two of his theological works have also been published in Czech.

91 Dr. Sykora
Dr. Sykora earned degrees include a Ph.D. from Durham University in the United Kingdom; M.A. in biblical studies and M.A. in theological studies from Asbury Theological 91 in Kentucky; and a Master in Law from Masaryk University in Brno, the Czech Republic. 

Dr. Sykora research revolves around three interwoven questions:

  • How shall we make sense of the violence sanctioned by the benevolent God of the Bible?

  • How can the biblical text be helpfully illuminated by subsequent theological thinking?

  • How shall we understand God's preference for some individuals or groups of people and what does it mean for those who are "unfavored".

In the past, Dr. Sykora served as a pastor in Bratislava, Slovakia, and as a Free Methodist missionary responsible for theological training in Europe. He remains involved in projects that attempt to articulate the Christian faith in the increasingly post-Christian and post-secular context of Central Europe.

Dr. Sykora work reflects years of study, prayer, and careful attention to Scripture. Were honored to recognize this accomplishment and grateful for the way his scholarship shapes our community.

Please join us as we celebrate his hard work on this newly published book!

A few excerpts have been translated to English and are included below.

In the desert, one cannot simply camp or march haphazardly. Israel must be organized in a regular and predictable formation, where all know where they belong and under whose command they advance through the inhospitable landscape. The twelve tribes of Israel are therefore divided into four groups, and each groupalways consisting of three tribestakes its place on one side of the Tent of Meeting. God dwelling extends in all directions of the compass, protected day and night by a ring of Israelite thousands. The people form a wreath in whose center the Mystery resides. Judah, camping and marching on the east side, is named first. It is he who will lead the people into the Promised Land, foreshadowing this tribe leading role in the time of the kings.

The tribes stick together, but the uniqueness of the specific tribes journeying with God in theirmidst does not disappear. They travel under the banner of their ancestral houses. They campby their standard, facing the Tent of Meeting, above which hovers the cloud, a sign of thecovenant.

Our own customs and traditions do not merge into an all-encompassing, uniform grayness. On the contrary, everyone proudly identifies with one own flag. Those who in history colonized others did not know, or arrogantly overlooked, that the good news of God offered hand in Christthat is, the gospelmust be embodied: in a specific person, in a specific culture and time.

If my gospel is personified by me and my tradition, it must naturally be different from that of myneighbors. By adopting the cross as its emblem, my tribe banner is not set aside. For amoment, the camp in the desert sand reflects a fantastical image hovering somewhere in theair: People from every tribe, nation, and tongue. On the way to where Judah entered first. Eachby their own standard, under the banner of their ancestral houses. All with an eye on the Lord.Meanwhile, in the Sinai heat, families are on the move, clans are gathering together, tents arebeing pitched. Above the camp, the coats of arms flutter, and the people turn their faces to God.

Israel has done everything as the Lord had commanded. At the moment, all is still well.

So far, we have focused on the census of the Israelite men and their arrangement into military units so that the people will be protected from external danger, as well as from the heatemanating from the Holy Place in the very center of the encampment. The following episodes,found in chapters 5 and 6, address everyone (not just men) and suggest that thecamppositioned between God Dwelling and the surrounding wild placesis a kind of sacredzone with a high degree of sensitivity to the essence of Being.

Take, for example, the ritual impurity. Despite its name, it did not represent anything morallywrong but pointed to moments when a person experienced something overwhelming and out ofthe ordinary. The priestly system recognized three main sources of such uncleanness: contactwith a corpse, a serious skin disease (inaccurately called leprosy), and genital discharge. Thesecircumstances resulted in temporary isolation because cultic impurity was considered infectious.Until the appointed time, ending by a cleansing bath, the afflicted person had to stay away fromother people and, above all, from God Abode.

The genital discharge, as well as the loss of blood, palpably points to the life force carrying thehuman race onward. The ordinances for ritual impurity highlighted these conditions andencouraged temporary cessation from normal activities, but also offered a path to make theheaviness of Being a little more bearable.

Our lives are governed by rules and customs different from those operating in ancient Israel.However, some of the biblical principles surprisingly correlate with liminal situations that aredeeply felt even today. Although we are culturally and historically removed from the enchantedworld of ancient Israelites, we, too, can suffer from the elements beyond our control. The deathof a loved one or a lengthy illness can leave an enduring mark on us. If our lives are interruptedby a life-giving forceor, on the contrary, a life-taking forceit is impossible to move on asthough nothing had ever happened. Instead, we become strangely unclean, needing spaceand time to cope with the new situation.

The question is whether our scientific worldview, which has long since overcome such old-fashioned ordinances, does not lack the tools to help us become more deeply attuned to theenfleshed nature of our existence. We go through life without stopping. No directives hold usback, but neither do they remind us of the unobvious nature of our animality.

Complaints have now taken hold of the center of the camp, specifically the leadership trio. Miriam has incited Aaron to slander Moses marriage. He had, after all, taken as his wife aforeigner from Ethiopia, a darker-skinned woman, and thus violated even the most basic criteriathat his prescriptions instill in others.

However, as we read on, we discover that Miriam and Aaron are not concerned with Mosesprivate life but with their own roles. Does the Lord speak only through Moses? Does he not alsospeak through us? Here we see the crux of the matter: Miriam and Aaron envy Mosesprivilege as God spokesperson, for they feel overshadowed by him. But to voice such agrievance publicly would reek of pettiness and quickly draw attention to their envy. Since envyonly thrives in secret, they must divert attention elsewhere and point to another perceivedfault. Shouldnt we, the religiously observant, replace the one who so visibly errs?

To the envious words, God responds quickly. Moses is a steward in the house of Israel; he hasan exclusive position. However, this does not mean that God does not speak to others. After all,God Spirit just fell on seventy elders! And Miriam, herself, appears as a prophetess elsewherein the Bible. Unfortunately, envy has clouded her eyes. As the Latin term invidio suggests: toenvy is to see poorly.

God departs, and behold, Miriam is a leper. The Cushite woman, Moses wife, is not the onlywoman of a different skin color in the camp. Miriam, Moses sister, also looks different. Herpale, anemic skin reflects her inner self, for, as Cyprian of Carthage said, envy is a rust thateats away at our hearts. Miriam personality slowly falls apart. She does not perceive that Godalso speaks through her and that, for a person of her esteem, everyone must ultimately wait.She sees only what she lacks. Consequently, she is now smaller than she was. The rust hasdone its work.

Then Moses speaks. He reacts to Aaron dismay, hears his plea, and stutters earnestly: I begyou, God, heal her! Moses is too humble to savor a moment of satisfaction. As Evagrius ofPontus already observed, humility represents the opposite of envy. Envy perceives its own inadequacy above everything else whereas a humble person sees self and others realistically.Envy wishes harm to others while humility lifts them up, generously showering the envious withattention, for it knows the depth of lowliness.

Both groups that criticized the exclusive role of priests perished. Interestingly, the narrative does not dwell on their terrible demise but, rather, turns its attention to the questions with whichKorah initiated the entire dispute: who is a priest, and why cant everyone be one? Thisemphasis hints that the story is primarily concerned with matters of ritual, with ethicalconsiderations taking a back seat.

God, through Moses, calls Eleazar to retrieve the censers from the site of destruction in front ofthe tabernaclethe censers that had been carried there by the men longing for the status ofpriests. Eleazar is not a random choice. His two older brothers had already died while bringingincense; the terror of God fire is not foreign to him. From the fiery ashes, he must recover thebronze pans, for nothing that approaches the center of the campand therefore ofBeing remains untouched. While the sinners who had come near of their own accord died, thecensers they brought near underwent a completely opposite transformation: they became holy.They cannot be returned to the camp but must permanently serve a sacred purpose. Eleazar isto melt them down into hammered sheets to overlay the bronze altar dedicated to sacrifice. Thecensers thus become an object lesson demonstrating the essence of the priesthood.

On the one hand, they are a reminder that no human being appoints oneself to the service ofthe Lord. No priest, pastor, or preacher arbitrarily chooses this role. Each must be invited, if notpersuaded. On the path to ordination, we follow the voice of God, confirmed by time and thecommunity of those who know us well. In fact, as testified by Gregory the Great, a monk who atthe end of the 6th century became Pope somewhat against his will, a true priest resists hispriestly calling tooth and nail. He does not feel worthy of it.

On the other hand, the place where the censers ended up enduringly exemplifies the nature ofthe priesthood. Just like those bronze plates, the pastor is indelibly affixed to the altar. Only onewho, in a metaphorically deeper sense, dies is immune to the fire raging within the sanctuary.Whatever the practical expression of this lotsome churches advocate celibacy, othersregularly move priests to a different diocesethe brand of death belongs to the service insideall temples. The priestly privilege of making the God of heaven accessible to others belongsonly to those who have already descended into the very depths of hell.