Graham Clapman:
They Stoned Me to Death with Stones:
A True Story from the Old Testament
Here is a refreshingly new point of view concerning a horrible incident depicted in the Old Testament. Joshua Finkelstein, the narrator in Graham Clapman's third quasi-historical novel, apparently lived in the mid-13th century BC. And he had a problem. In Numbers 15:32-36 it says:
While the people of Israel were in the wilderness, they found a man gathering sticks on the Sabbath day. And those who found him gathering sticks brought him to Moses and Aaron and to all the congregation. They put him in custody, because it had not been made clear what should be done to him. And the Lord said to Moses, "The man shall surely be put to death; all the congregation shall stone him with stones outside the camp." And all the congregation brought him outside the camp and stoned him to death with stones, as the Lord commanded Moses.
So far, so good. However, it goes without saying that Finkelstein himself describes the scene somewhat differently (cp. p. 28):
After tea at around 4.30 p.m. my wife spake to me thus, "Josh dear, why don't you go out and gather some sticks so we can play Mikado [a pick-up sticks game] after supper?" No problem, thought I, but no sooner had I found some real nice straight sticks than a bunch of Israelite vigilantes who had apparently been hiding behind some bulrushes descended on me, screaming blue murder. At first I thought they were after my Mikado sticks, but then it turned out it was a Sabbath day! Naturally, I was mortified. I tried to explain the whole thing to Moses, but pretty soon he had this sardonic grin on his face – he was known for this mischievous grin, you know – and when I had finished he just said, "Jeez, man, what a dumb kind of lame excuse is that?" So they killed me.
End of story? On the contrary. Finkelstein proceeds to tell his side of the story by depicting what happened to him afterwards. He was not exactly surprised when he found himself further punished by being relegated to Hell. There he suffered terribly, but not only because of the intense heat: "Actually, what pained me most was the fact that I was able to observe, from a vantage point so to speak, how the Sabbath laws changed dramatically over the centuries." (p. 56)
He is right, of course: by 1995 - AD, that is – hardly anybody in Christian countries cares about the Sabbath laws anymore. Which is why Finkelstein begs for an audience with God. It is granted after what seems to him an eternity. Finkelstein recalls (p. 67):
Well, God and I had this argument that went on and on for ages. I said to Him: "Look, there are these stores now all over the planet which are open 24-7. Take Becky Thatcher for example. She lives in Dallas, and she's a very distant descendant of mine – I mean, very distant. She's been working in a 7-Eleven most of her life, and there is hardly a Sunday when she doesn't have to work. And nobody calls for some kind of severe punishment, not even the archbishop of Dallas! Now, she is a relative of mine, so obviously I don't want her to get stoned (no pun intended), but my point is: How come You have changed Your mind? How can You, an omniscient God, possibly change Your mind?
According to Finkelstein, God is definitely not amused. In fact, it soon becomes clear that he is having a tough time defending himself. Morosely he listens to the cheeky culprit who claims that he was first stoned to death and then thrown into Hell merely for collecting a few (Mikado) sticks on a Sabbath, whereas only a couple of centuries later people can collect just about anything on a Sunday without facing the death penalty, not even in Texas, where they still believe in that kind of thing. Eventually, the Almighty groans in exasperation: "For Heaven's sake, what am I supposed to do about it now? Okay, maybe I was wrong, but you can't expect me to un-stone you, can you?"
In an interview with Vatican Radio on September 12, 2016, Graham Clapman was eager to point out that the whole idea of writing the novel was not to make fun of religious beliefs:
MONSIGNOR CASPAR FILETTI: Do you hate the Old Testament?
CLAPMAN: No, but I have always been deeply troubled about the atrocities endorsed or commanded by God in the Old Testament. Take the stoning referred to in my book, for example. I asked myself, how could a God possibly have a man punished for a minor (if any) offense in such a horrific way in those days while nowadays not even the most fundamentalist Christians would even dream of such a punishment?
MONSIGNOR CASPAR FILETTI: What about the historical context, though?
CLAPMAN: Well, these days almost everybody seems to agree that everything in the Bible has to be interpreted within its historical and cultural context. I agree, too. However, the "context" can only refer to those people that lived at the time – it cannot possibly refer to God, because (quite obviously) he is outside of any kind of historical or cultural context. Therefore, we have to face the following alternative:
A. God still wants us to stone people for such a heinous "crime".
B. We must assume that He changed His mind about what is wrong and what is right.
Now, to me, either alternative is inconceivable. The absurdity is palpable and profoundly shocking. And there is definitely nothing funny about it.
Asked by Filetti if he resented everything in the Old Testament, Clapman insisted that there were a few passages that he did like. "My all-time favourite is in Exodus 23:2, where it says: 'Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil.' I absolutely love that phrase. By the way, according to Christopher Hitchens, it was taught to Bertrand Russell by his grandmother, and stayed with the old heretic all his life. It is going to stay with me, too."
As for the outcome of the novel, I simply urge you, dear reader, to buy the book – I'm almost sure you won't be disappointed.