This sixth installment of my response to a beloved former student’s question concerning the authority of Scripture deals with the third context in which one must set Scripture in order to hear God’s Word in the words. In addition to the cultural context that produced the text and literary context in which one finds the words, one must also attend to the contemporary context in which readers find themselves. The two-fold challenge involves avoiding the danger of assuming that the intellectual and cultural world of the Bible corresponds perfectly to contemporary circumstances, on the one hand, and failing to allow the biblical perspective the opportunity to critique modern assumptions, on the other.
Often, the problem manifests itself in the supposed conflict between biblical faith and modern science. The authors did not have, could not even anticipate, and therefore could not incorporate into their writings, the vast knowledge about the universe revealed to us by modern science. The Bible nowhere claims that it reveals the summation of knowledge about the world. But, then, nothing in the Bible indicates that its authors wished to give instruction in mathematics, biology, chemistry, geography, anthropology, physics, etc. Sometimes the Bible reflects understandings of these aspects of reality that are manifestly wrong. The ancient Israelites were not good mathematicians. According to the biblical account of the construction and furnishings of Solomon’s temple, Solomon “made the molten sea; it was round, ten cubits from brim to brim, and five cubits high, and a line of thirty cubits measured its circumference” (1 Kgs 7:23 = 2Chron 4:2-5). Using the formula c=πd (circumference equals π times the diameter) results in a value of 3. for π (30= π10, 30/10 = π). The ancient Israelites were not good zoologists. “You may eat all clean birds. But these are the ones which you shall not eat: the eagle, the vulture, the osprey…the hoopoe and the bat” (Deut 14:11-18 par. Lev 11:13-19, RSV). Bats are mammals, not birds. The ancient Israelites were not good anthropologists. The so-called “Table of Nations” in Genesis 10 lists the descendants of Noah, in the biblical view the ancestor of every human being after him, through his three sons. Japheth became the ancestor of “the coastland peoples” along the southern and eastern Mediterranean; Ham became the ancestor of the peoples of northern Africa; and Shem became the ancestors of the Semitic peoples, including the Israelites, the Aramaeans, and the Mesopotamians. The Table of Nations does not name the ancestors of the northern Europeans, the Asians, the aboriginal Australians, or the aboriginal Americans – because the author of the Table of Nations knew only the Fertile Crescent.
This circumstance is not a problem for believers unless they are unwilling to “harmonize” the ancient and the modern, so to speak. The Bible intends to tell the story of God’s relationship with a community of faith, not to teach science. Worldviews change continually as people acquire more information and understanding. I can understand that the ancient Israelites could not compute π; the decimal point had not yet been invented. Nonetheless, I do not want to fly in an airplane designed using biblical math.
The need to harmonize modern and ancient worldviews does not always apply, however. On many questions, especially regarding matters of wisdom, faith, and righteousness (cf. 2 Tim 3:15-16), the worldviews of ancient Israel and the early church stand against modern understandings and practices. For example, the world that produced the Bible knew nothing of modern hyper-individualism. Instead, Scripture reflects the high cultural value placed on “the people of God” and “the body of Christ.” The Scripture that speaks well of only three (David, Hezekiah, and Josiah) out of all the kings of Israel and Judah and that asserts “Jesus is Lord!” (in contrast to the confession of loyalty to the emperor “Caesar is Lord!”) cannot be reconciled with Christian nationalism. The Bible that commissions God’s people to be “light” to the world and that calls for loving others, even Samaritans and those who hate us, as we love ourselves, does not support protectionism, isolationism, or any actions that manifest lack of empathy – personally, communally, or nationally.
The supposed conflict between the faith and science surfaces especially with regard to the Bible’s creation accounts and viewpoints on cosmology and evolution. The situation provides an opportunity for a couple of case studies that will demonstrate how biblical interpretation benefits from careful attention to all three of the contexts involved in reading Scripture. These case studies will constitute the final installment of this series.
This fifth installment in my response to a former student will discuss the second context that good biblical interpretation must take into account. In addition to the cultural context that produced scripture, a given passage of scripture must be understood in terms of is literary context beginning with its immediate surroundings and extending to the entirety of Scripture. The failure to do so will certainly result in misinterpretation or the absolutization of a given text over against other texts in Scripture and contrary to the tenor of Scripture as a whole. Often this sort of privileging one text over others betrays inconsistency, incoherence, and bias on the part of the interpreter. In other words, observance of the literary context of scripture requires criteria applicable across Scripture that take seriously all Scripture as authoritative without rigidity.
A few examples should demonstrate the importance of this principle. The first installment of this series has already discussed the case of Job’s friends, whose speeches addressed to Job sound orthodox and pious, except that in the context of the whole book of Job, they stand under God’s negative evaluation expressed at the end of the book (Job 42:5). Yes, often we have to read to the end if we want to understand the message of a biblical book. Memory verses can mislead.
The case of Ezra’s decree that Jewish men in post-exilic Judah must divorce their foreign wives and disown any (entirely innocent!) children that resulted from the union illustrates the need for setting a given text in the context of the whole Bible. Two issues intertwine here: divorce and particularism. Upon returning to Yehud (Judah) with the mandate of the Persian King Artaxerxes to regulate religious affairs there (Ezr 7:25-26), Ezra, whose priestly pedigree traced all the way back to Aaron (7:1-5) discovered that some among the populace had “not separated themselves from the people of the lands with their abomination,” but had intermarried with “Canaanites, Hittites, Perizzites, Jebusites, Ammonites, Moabites, Egyptians, and Amorites” (9:1-2, RSV). The discovery prompted Ezra to offer a lengthy prayer of confession (9:3-15), in which he alluded to Deut 7:1-5. The Deuteronomy text prohibits Israelites from intermarrying with a list of peoples closely aligned with the list in Ezr 9:1-2 suggesting that the motivating factor for Ezra was adherence to Deuteronomy.
Several factors argue against claiming Ezra’s decision as a precedent with respect to divorce, and certainly not to mass divorce. There is reason to question whether Ezra’s efforts to honor Deut 7:1-5 may not have violated Deut 24:1. To be sure, Deuteronomy permits a man to divorce his wife “if … she finds no favor in his eyes because he has found some indecency in her….” In the rabbinical debate over the precise connotations of “indecency,” the school of Shammai and the school of Hillel held contrasting positions. Shammai argued that “A man may not divorce his wife unless he has found her guilty of sexual misconduct…,” while Hillel maintained that “(He may dismiss her) even if she has merely spoiled his meal….” (Sifre, Piska 269). Nothing in the Ezra case suggests that the wives divorced were guilty of sexual misconduct. Nothing suggests that the husbands involved wanted to divorce their wives for any reason, including their cooking! Of course, Christian readers of Ezra 9-10 will also want to include the New Testament as context. Probably in reference to Deuteronomy 24, Jesus prohibits a man from divorcing his wife “except on grounds of unchastity” (Matt 5:32; 19:9, RSV). Luke’s version omits the exception (16:18). Paul warns against being “unequally yoked” (2 Cor 6:14-18), but he does not require divorce, which would contradict the teachings of Jesus.
Similarly, the particularism evident in Ezra’s abhorrence of intermarriage with non-Jews presents its own difficulties. First, by Ezra’s day many of the peoples listed in Deuteronomy 7 and Ezra 9 no longer survived as identifiable people groups. Second, Deuteronomy expresses an interest in protecting religious purity, not ethnic identity. Third, the book of Ezra does not record that God issued a directive to Ezra that he should require 84 men (10:18-43) to turn their backs on their wives and children. Instead, Ezra himself drew an inference from scripture that may not have been entirely apt. Fourth, and most importantly, Ezra relied on a single text instead of the broader testimony of Scripture. Joshua 9 records the incorporation of the Gibeonites into the covenant people. Tamar and Rahab were Canaanites, Ruth was a Moabite, and Bathsheba was a Hittite, yet all were in the direct lineage of David, and thus of Jesus (Matt 1:3, 5, 6). Further, Ezra failed to take into account the promise stated in Isa 56:3: “Let not the foreigner who has joined himself to the Lord say, ‘The Lord will surely separate me from his people.’”
Isaiah 56 figures prominently in another example of the need to put scripture in the context of scripture. Deuteronomy 23:1 explicitly prohibits eunuchs from entering “the assembly of the Lord.” Yet, in a later time, Isa 56:4-5 promises, not only foreigners (see above), but also faithful eunuchs the contrary: “For thus says the Lord: ‘To the eunuchs who keep my sabbaths, who choose the things that please me and hold fast my covenant, I will give in my house and within my walls a monument and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name which shall not be cut off.’” Again, Christian interpreters of will want to put these texts in context with the New Testament. Acts 8:26-40 records the account of Philip’s encounter with an Ethiopian eunuch – thus, both a foreigner and a eunuch – on the Jerusalem-Gaza road, whom ironically Philip found reading from the book of Isaiah. In response to the eunuch’s question, Philip explained “the good news of Jesus” and the eunuch asked immediately to be baptized. So, Philip baptized him (vv 36-38). Careful readers of the Bible do not absolutize single texts. The words of the Bible can become the Word of God when we pay wise attention to their context in “the whole counsel of God” (Acts 20:27).
This, the fourth installment in my response to a former student, turns attention to the second axiom that can provide a guardrail against reading into Scripture our own preferences, namely careful attention to the three contexts against which any biblical passage should be read: the cultural context it reflects, the literary context in which it is situated, and the cultural context of its reader. Scripture is culturally and historically rooted. The individuals who composed the various sections of the Bible quite naturally reflected the worldviews, the cultural practices, the societal norms, the crises, etc. of the times in which they lived. Interpreters of scripture should not automatically assume that these cultural and historical contexts, in themselves, convey any information concerning the will or character of God. Often such cultural artefacts trouble contemporary readers of the scripture. If, however, we recognize them as such, we can forgive the ancients for being ancients. (One day our descendants will look back on us with horror, or, if we’re lucky, pity.) Examples abound.
The author of Genesis 1 shared with the Egyptians, the Assyrians, and the Babylonians (remember that Abraham came originally from Ur in Mesopotamia) a cosmology that envisioned a solid dome suspended above the earth, separating the space beneath it from the waters above (Gen 1:6-8). The Hebrew word translated “firmament” in the KJV (raqiya`) comes from the world of the metal-smith and means “a thing hammered into a shape.” The ancients had no concepts of the vast expanse of space, of the difference between stars, planets, and moons, or of a solar system. The Bible does not want to tell us to replace what we know today with ancient ideas. Instead, with the author of Genesis 1, we can assert that the existent universe (regardless of its shape) is God’s good creation.
The ancient Israelites lived in the midst of cultures that practiced polygamy. It was a given, so the Israelites practiced polygamy. God did not endorse the practice. God did not inspire or require them to do so. Neither, however, as far as the Bible records, did God prohibit the practice until, arguably, the New Testament era. Consequently, we should regard biblical polygamy as a cultural artefact, not a vital component of the scriptural witness.
For the ancient Israelite, the death of a man before he could father children posed a compound threat. He would be without memory, his heritage would revert to another line of the family, and his wife would be without means of support. They found a solution, so-called levirate marriage, in which a younger brother of the deceased married the widow and the first child conceived in that marriage was considered the child of the deceased in a legal fiction. Even those who claim to interpret the Bible “literally” recognize the culture-bound nature of this practice and the texts that call for it (Deut 25:5-10).
Patriarchy functions as a substrate in both Testaments because it characterized the cultures of the world in which Israel and later the Church came into existence. As early as Genesis, however, the Bible undercuts the idea that gender hierarchy conforms to God’s will. God created humankind in God’s image; both male and female reflect God’s likeness (Gen 1:26-27). According to the account of the creation of Eve from Adam’s rib, God did so because God recognized that Adam was alone. God decided to make Adam a nigdo (Gen 2:18, 20), a unique Hebrew word comprising a preposition that means “opposite, over against” with a pronoun that means “him/his” and that functions grammatically here as a noun. Although many translations render it “helper,” which hints at a secondary or subservient role, it ‘literally’ means “his opposite” or “his counterpart.” In fact, the Genesis 2 account explains that, because of the way God created Eve, a man leaves his parental home and “cleaves” to his wife – not the other way around. A range of other texts about prominent women in the Hebrew Bible contribute to a critique of the notion that gender hierarchy represents God’s intention: Deborah, Jael, Huldah, etc.
Examples of culture-boundedness appear in the New Testament, too, and one of the clearest examples also reflects a patriarchal substrate. The author of 1 Tim 2:8-12 wrote:
I desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling; also that women should adorn themselves modestly and sensibly in seemly apparel, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or costly attire but by good deeds, as befits women who profess religion. Let a woman learn in silence with all submissiveness. I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over men; she is to keep silent. (RSV)
Perhaps the first thing one should note in this text involves the fact that, as discussed in the first installment of this blog series concerning 1 Cor 7:25-26, the author reports his own position and practice: “I desire,” “I permit.” He makes no claim to be proclaiming a divine mandate. Second, as mentioned in the immediately preceding installment, the text notably expresses as much concern for women’s appearance as it does for their silence. The description of a well-dressed and well-coiffed woman speaking before a group of men calls to mind the hetairai or “courtesans” known in the Hellenistic Mediterranean world. Paul elsewhere expressed concern that Hellenistic converts who came from unsavory backgrounds (“And such were some of you,” 1 Cor 6:11, RSV) take care to distance themselves from their pasts. In our culture, expensive clothing, fashionable hairstyles, pearl necklaces, and rhetorical skill do not encode “courtesan,” although we might agree with Paul that Christians who wish to represent a holy God to the world may wisely give some attention to appearances. Third, as I will discuss at greater length in the next installment, 1 Tim 2:8-12 should also be read in the literary context of the entirety of scripture, including Paul’s statement concerning the equality in Christ of Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female (Gen 3:28).
While, in many cases, we should not and cannot replicate the assumptions and practices that constitute the background for many biblical texts, the fact that ancient culture shines through biblical texts does not negate their capacity to become Word of God for us. They are not, or need not be, merely historical artefacts. Instead, interpreting scripture well requires us to undertake ‘cultural translation,’ as it were. If we transpose the thrust of a given passage into a comparable contemporary context, we will find that an insight into God’s will and character or a principle for human conduct sounds across the ages.
This, the third installment in my response to a former student, turns attention to a few considerations to keep in mind to guard against mishandling Scripture given its anthology status and the history of its formation. It may not be correct to describe these “considerations” as “principles,” because one might construe the term as a depiction of biblical interpretation as a methodical, even mechanical, procedure. Interpreting the Bible well requires wisdom beyond the mere application of rules. Still, certain reminders can provide guardrails against what is sometimes called eisegesis, the act of reading into Scripture one’s own preferences rather than reading out of Scripture the message it intends to convey.
The first among these axioms involves the importance of the plain meaning of the text in its original language. Of course, not all readers of the Bible have facility with Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek. The very fact that most readers of the Bible rely on translations suggests a number of cautions. No translation of any piece of literature, including the Bible, from one language to another perfectly and fully captures the intention, the subtleties, and the art of the original. Consequently, one’s choice of translation represents the first important decision one makes as a student of the Bible.
Some translations (KJV, RSV and NRSV, for
example) employ the so-called ‘formal correspondence’ approach in which the
translator attempts to represent each element in the original with a
corresponding element in the translation.
A simple example is the translation of the German sentence “Das ist eine
Katze” into English as “That is a cat.”
The prominent alternative, the ‘dynamic equivalency’ approach, seeks to
render whole units of speech into the receptor language such that it preserves
the ‘gist’ of meaning but, usually, in a more colloquial form. A major weakness of the ‘dynamic equivalency’
approach involves the tendency to translate, not just from one language to
another, but from one worldview and cultural background to another.
Paraphrases also enjoy some popularity because of their readability. They are, however, paraphrases, not translations at all. Readers should not rely upon them as sources for theology or ethics, faith or practice.
The term plain meaning of the text should not be confused with the dangerous term literal meaning. Surely responsible interpretation begins with the “plain sense,” but some passages of scripture are “plainly” hyperbole, parable, allegory, fiction, even satire or sarcasm. Furthermore, those who insist on interpreting the Bible literally often exercise a degree of inconsistency in the effort that reveals theological biases. Interpreters must guard against selectively emphasizing certain biblical texts, for example. They must also always keep in mind their human propensity to employ subjective criteria. Typical examples of this interpretive inconsistency include treatments of texts in the Hebrew Bible that deal with eating pork and of New Testament texts that deal with women in authority. If one wishes to say that the Bible means what it says, but then entirely disregards explicit prohibitions, it requires one to explain how any portion of the Bible could have become entirely invalid. In other words, it requires one to admit that at least portions of the Bible must be interpreted and it requires a coherent and transparent hermeneutical approach. If one wishes to base one’s stance against women in ministry on 1 Tim 2:13, consistency demands that one also take a stance against women wearing “braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire” (1 Tim 2:9). Otherwise, one engages in special pleading.
This second installment of my response to a former student concerning my understanding of the authority of scripture will deal with the importance of reading any literature, including the Bible, in accordance with its inherent character. Science fiction books are not science textbooks. It is important to listen to the Bible regarding its nature instead of applying a priori definitions to it. So, what is the literary character of the Bible?
A Literary Anthology
First, the name itself reveals something important, namely that the Bible is not monolithic. “Bible” derives from the Greek expression ta biblia (“the [collection of] little books”) used in the early Church to designate the books of the canon in aggregate. Although modern editions of the Bible have the appearance of a single book, appearance masks the long history of composition and compilation that produced it. No one knows how many authors and editors contributed to the books that comprise the Bible. The books of Psalms (Asaph, the sons of Korah, Ethan, Heman, etc.) and Proverbs (Agur, Lemuel, a number of unnamed wisdom teachers, etc.) mention multiple authors and, along with Lamentations and probably Song of Songs, constitute anthologies. Ecclesiastes represents the work of an editor who collected the teachings of Qoheleth, “The Preacher,” and published them with a brief editorial introduction (Eccl 1:1) and postscript (Ecc 12:9-14) admonishing readers to handle the words of Qoheleth with caution.
The Process of Collection or Canonization
Writing over
more than a millennium, the authors and editors of the sixty-six (as enumerated
in the Protestant tradition) components of the scriptural anthology had no
awareness that their works would one day become part of the collection that
came to be called the Bible. God did not
first reveal the Table of Contents of the Bible. When the Evangelist wrote the
Gospel of Matthew, he did not think that he had written the first book of the
New Testament! (In fact, in historical order, the first New Testament book
written was probably either Galatians or 1 Thessalonians). At the time, there
was no New Testament and no “plan” on the part of its authors to produce
it. Instead, a centuries-long process in
which the community of faith, first the Jews and then the Christians, came to
recognize these books as a necessary source for their faith.
It is helpful
to think historically. No one can be
sure which of the books of the Hebrew Bible, or portions of books like the
Psalms, were written first, or when. They will have circulated individually,
probably on scrolls. Incidentally, we probably would not even think of “the
Bible” as a single book were it not for the Greek invention of the codex
(book with turnable pages). In the era
when “books” were written on “scrolls” one would have needed a wagon to
transport the individual books of the canon.
One could certainly not have carried it in its entirety in one’s hands.
Scholars can
say with relative certainty that, sometime in the late exilic or post-exilic
periods, probably circa 300 BCE, the believing community had come to regard the
five books grouped together to comprise the Torah (the Law, also called the
Pentateuch or “five books”) as authoritative.
Books like Isaiah and Jeremiah existed and circulated alongside the
Pentateuch, but did not attain canonical status until a century or so later
(cf. the “Letter of Aristeas”). Significantly,
this second section of the Hebrew canon, the Nebi’im or Prophets,
contains Joshua, Judges, 1-2 Samuel, and 1-2 Kings (the so-called “Former
Prophets”), the three major prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel), and the
twelve minor prophets (usually written on one scroll and referred to as “the
Book of the Twelve” or the Dodekaprofeton). The Hebrew canon remained
‘open,’ as it were, to the inclusion of still other books until sometime after
Jesus, who regularly referred to the scriptures as “the law and the prophets”
(Matt 7:12; 22:20; Luke 16:16; cf. John 1:45; Rom 3:21), reflecting the fact
that, in his day, the third section of the Hebrew Bible had not yet been
defined as canon. Sometime after Jesus,
probably motivated by a perceived need to close the canon to Jewish-Christian
literature, the Jewish community acknowledged the significance of a series of
other books, known collectively as the Kethubim or “the Writings.”
The cases of
the books of Esther, Song of Songs, and Ecclesiastes offer instructive perspectives
on the process whereby the faith community came to recognize certain individual
books as authoritative during the period of the formation of the Kethubim.
According to the Mishnah (mYad III:5), during the time of Rabbi Akiba (c.
50-135 CE), there was some uncertainty concerning canonicity of these three books:
Esther because it does not even mention God (cf. bMeg 7a); Song of Songs
both because it does not mention God and because of its undeniable eroticism;
and Ecclesiastes because of its skeptical tone. According to the Talmud (bSan
101a) and the Tosefta (San XII:10), Rabbi Akiba argued strongly
against acknowledging the eroticism in Songs by singing it in a secular “banquet
house.” In the end, the association in popular practice between each of these
books and an important festival (Esther – Purim; Song of Songs – Passover;
Ecclesiastes – Feast of Booths or Tabernacles) seems to have swayed sentiment
in favor of their canonicity.
The New
Testament canon took shape over a much shorter period. Several positions
regarding which books should be considered authority surfaced in the early
centuries of the church. When Bishop Athanasius of Alexandria issued his
pastoral Easter letter of 367 CE, he listed the familiar 27 books of the New
Testament, although in a different order.
It is important to remember that the believing communities, both Jewish and Christian, produced scores of other books during the period of the formation of the canon. Some books seemed to speak more clearly to the community than others, however. In fact, for Christians, two criteria seemed to determine whether a book would be considered canonical: apostolicity and catholicity (in the sense of universal). First, the book in question must have been able to claim connection directly to the generation of those who knew Jesus during his lifetime. (Paul dealt with the accusation that he was not truly an apostle on these grounds. He maintained that the Damascus Road experience qualified him as such.) Contact with Jesus of Nazareth lent authenticity. Second-hand information would have been unreliable. Second, the book must not be parochial, but speak to the whole church everywhere and across time.
A Collection of Diverse Genres
In accordance
with its character as an anthology, “Bible” is not, itself, a literary genre. The
books in this anthology represent tens, if not scores, of distinct genres, each
requiring a distinct interpretive approach. As already mentioned, the book of
Psalms contains prayers; Deuteronomy offers guidance on applying the axiomatic
principles of the Decalogue in concrete situations. Song of Songs comprises a
cycle of, sometimes quite erotic, love songs.
Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and the rest are prophetic books. Daniel and
Revelation are apocalyptic literature. Each of these genres calls for different
interpretive approaches. One could say
that one can hear the word of God in them on different frequencies.
Of course, many
biblical books contain narratives of various sub-genres. They do not purport to
be something like “scripts” written by God directing human beings to do and say
what God wanted done and said. They are stories that report what people did and
said, often contrary to God’s will, in fact. Here, it may be well to point out the
distinction between prescriptive texts (love your neighbor) and narrative or descriptive
texts (just about anything David ever did).
Since the Bible records God’s relationship with God’s people, it includes a significant proportion of narrative material relating events in the life of God’s people. David committed adultery with Bathsheba and arranged the death of her husband, Uriah, to hide his crime. God did not direct David to do so; David did these things on his own. The Bible records it because it was an important event in David’s relationship with God – a negative event, but an important one. The Bible abounds in accounts of human misbehavior: violence, sex, deceit, theft – the whole range of possibilities for human wrongdoing. God inspired none of these acts. The Bible faithfully records it all, however, because to say that God enters into relationship with people is to say that God becomes involved in messy human lives.
Since the Bible records God’s relationship with God’s people, it records God’s involvement in a specific branch of human history. God called Abraham, a native of Ur in Mesopotamia; God called Moses, an adoptive Egyptian prince. Israel took shape as a people and a nation amid cultures that had already developed writing, that had legal systems, that had established societal norms and practices. It should not be surprising that Abraham continued many of the customs and practices (polygamy, for example) he had learned in Ur, nor that Moses and the Israelites of the Exodus would continue the institution of slavery. God met these people where they were; God did not create their culture. Over time, through relationship with God, the people of God came to clearer understandings of God’s character and God’ will. The Bible records the history of that growth. To take a snapshot of a moment in that history and make it definitive is to miss the grander, broader picture.
The Bible is not a monolith. It does not communicate God’s will unfiltered by the experience of the human beings who fill its pages and who authored it. The Bible can become God’s word for the reader who engages with it profoundly, for a prolonged period, and with wise hearts, and open ears.
A beloved former student whom
I taught early in my career at the undergraduate level recently contacted me
via social media to ask whether some of the views I express there represent
changes in my thinking since that earlier time in my life and career.
Specifically, this former student equated my public positions regarding a
number of hot button social issues with an abandonment of confidence in the
authority of Scripture. I responded that a fulsome treatment of the questions
put to me would far exceed the scope of social media communications and
promised to publish such a treatment on my blog very soon. Over the next
several weeks I will publish here a detailed explanation of the principles or
axioms that guide me as I read Scripture.
This first installment of my response will, by way of preamble, assert that simply reading the Bible guided by the slogan, “the Bible says it – that settles it,” as though the Bible requires no interpretation leads one into a number of dangers. It is important, for example, to distinguish between the WORD of God, the word of God, and the words of God. The first is the Logos incarnate, the second is a term the church uses to acknowledge the Bible as a source for our faith; yet, the Bible is neither per se nor in toto the “words” of God. Lengthy speeches by Job’s friends constitute about half of the book. They make arguments that sound very orthodox and pious. Eliphaz the Temanite can represent them here:
“Agree with God, and be at peace; thereby good will come
to you. Receive instruction from his mouth, and lay up his words in your heart…For
God abases the proud, but he saves the lowly. He delivers the
innocent man; you will be delivered through the cleanness of your hands” (Job
22:21-22, 29-30 RSV).
These statements sound like some good memory
verses, but the end of the book reports that, after speaking with Job, God
spoke also to this same Eliphaz: “My wrath is kindled against you and against
your friends; for you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job
has” (Job 42:5 RSV). In other words, the speeches of Job’s friends do NOT
communicate God’s will. Instead, they function in scripture as part of its rich
dialogue in the effort of the faithful to seek understanding.
No less than the Apostle Paul made clear on
one occasion that one should distinguish between his personal opinion and the
will of God. In response to a question
from the Corinthian church concerning the desirability of remaining celibate in
light of, what they thought would be, the imminent Parousia, Paul advised them:
“Now concerning the unmarried, I have no command of the
Lord, but I give my opinion as one who by the Lord’s mercy is
trustworthy.I think that in view of the present
distress it is well for a person to remain as he is…I want you to be
free from anxieties” (1 Cor 7:25-26 RSV, italics added). One wonders how often
Paul may have stated a personal opinion without indicating it as such. In much
the same way, the Bible’s narratives report what Abraham, Naomi, David, Mary,
and Peter said, not God’s words. It is simply dangerous to regard everything in
the Scriptures as a statement directly from God.
Indeed, often the challenge is to comprehend how
a particular passage can possibly be understood as word of God. The
so-called imprecatory psalms clearly belong in this category. What is God’s
word for God’s people in statements such as the conclusion of Psalm 139 (vv
8-9), an exilic prayer asking God to take vengeance on the Edomites and the
Babylonians.
O daughter of Babylon, you
devastator!
Happy shall he be who
requites you
with what you have done to
us!
Happy shall he be who
takes your little ones
and dashes them against the rock! (RSV)
The entire Psalter, of course, asks readers to grapple with how to consider it the word of God. After all, every psalm represents human speech addressed to or about God. The psalter includes not only imprecatory psalms such as Psa 139, but complaints and laments charging God with inaction (cf. Ps 74, esp. v 11; Ps 79) alongside prayers of thanksgiving and hymns of praise. They are not the words of God, but, in the context of the overall witness of Scripture to a God who desires relationship, they constitute the human side of the dialogue. God’s people need them as models. It is important to distinguish between the WORD of God, the word of God, and the words of God.
“Power” is a tricky word. In everyday usage, it
can mean “authority to control” or “ability to coerce,” on the one hand. On the other, the Gospel of the Crucified One
clearly does not view such “power” as a gift of God. “Power” can also mean the energy, impulse,
dynamism necessary to effect change through love. I pray that rather than
concentrating on how to wield coercive, controlling power, believers will
reconnect with the power of the Gospel to change lives, families, communities,
and entire societies.
As bearers of God’s image, we belong to one another—our neighbor, our community, our earth, its inhabitants, all creation. At Sophia, as we learn together alongside each other, you will become a vital part of a body that transforms you and is transformed by you.
The Bible uses a number of
metaphors and analogies to describe a community inhabited by God’s presence: a
kingdom, a vine and its branches, a congregation (Hebrew: qahal; Greek: ekklesia),
a group of disciples. Paul demonstrated a certain preference for the image of
the body, the body of Christ.
This rich image speaks to many things. It reminds us that, while community, to be sure, involves a degree of unity, that unity is not uniformity and is certainly not conformity. Members in a true community remain distinct individuals, each respecting the other and the other’s contribution. Here, the musical concept of harmony complements Paul’s body metaphor nicely. The harmony that Sophia seeks involves multiple tones structured in chords, rather than a group of voices singing in unison.
Paul’s image reminds us that the
life of a community involves many tasks and that, correspondingly, members of a
community have many functions. A healthy community will include hands to hold
and shape, eyes to see need, feet to go where there is need, hearts to feel
compassion for the needy, and minds to understand the need. No function can
claim priority, and every function is necessary.
The image of the body of Christ underscores the fact that each member of the body is precious to all the others. Hearts that circulate the blood that delivers nutrients throughout need lungs to oxygenate that blood. Muscles depend on that blood. Fingers may seem relatively less vital, but when they have been injured, the whole body knows the pain. At Sophia, every part cherishes every other part. Differences in function do not matter.
Paul’s body imagery also suggests that a healthy body grows and develops. Minds sharpen; muscles develop; bones lengthen and strengthen. Throughout life, hopefully, human beings gain in wisdom, understanding, and compassion. Sophia’s community prioritizes nurturing such growth, not just in knowledge, but also in mature personhood.
The Advent and Christmas seasons give us the opportunity to remember that, in keeping with Paul’s notion, as members of the body of Christ, followers of Jesus have the privilege and responsibility of incarnating, embodying Christ in the world. As bearers of God’s image, we belong to one another—our neighbor, our community, our earth, its inhabitants, all creation. At Sophia, as we learn together alongside each other, you will become a vital part of a body that transforms you and is transformed by you.
One of God’s promises to the
ancient Israelites, during their time of exile, was that God would return them
to their homeland and they would live there securely, in peace and without fear.
This promise occurs throughout the prophetic books, and Ezekiel particularly offers
several iterations of it. For example, Ezekiel 34:27 reads:
“The trees of the field shall
yield their fruit, and the earth shall yield its increase. They shall be secure
on their soil, and they shall know that I am the Lord when I break the bars of their yoke and save them from
the hands of those who enslaved them.” (NRSV)
The word often translated into
English as “safe” or “secure” (as above) derives from the Hebrew root word
meaning “trust.” The relationship between “safety” and “trust” is an obvious
one. We feel safe with those we trust. The negative is also true: we feel unsafe
with those we do not trust.
A sense of safety is a basic creaturely
need. It is a necessary condition for all creation’s thriving. It is part of a
sense of wholeness, of well-being, of shalom.
Last week’s installment from the Sophia faculty on “freedom” highlighted Paul’s reference in Galatians 5 to Leviticus 19:18, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus also quotes this same verse numerous times (see Matthew 19:19 and 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27).
The mutuality of a love that values one’s neighbor equally to oneself not only ties us together in the work of freedom, as discussed last week, but it also enables us to build trust that can bring us to a place, to a space of true safety, secure in the love of God and of one another. In this way, freedom and safety are close companions, each flourishing in the presence of the other. To love as God loves is to hold the well-being of our neighbor as closely as we hold our own. At Sophia, your well-being is closely held, as together we take up the charge to embody a community of welcome, of hospitality, of security, of peace.
For most of us, the word “freedom” calls up lots of images, experiences, thoughts, and feelings—many of them likely tied closely to the politics of citizenship. In Galatians, however, Paul writes of a very different understanding of freedom. After opening with the phrase, “For freedom Christ has set us free,” Galatians 5 goes on to discuss traditional ritual responsibilities of the Hebrew Bible’s Torah teaching (the “law”), primarily that of circumcision. Paul then asserts that observing or not observing this ritual doesn’t really matter. Instead, “in Christ Jesus . . . the only thing that counts is faith working through love.”
In verses 13-14, Paul expands on the nature of
this love:
For you were called to freedom, brothers and
sisters, only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence,
but through love become enslaved to one another [ital. added].For
the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your
neighbor as yourself.”
We should not be tempted, as many are, to
interpret Paul’s powerful and provocative words as calling for the end of
religious rituals and practices or the end of following Torah instruction.
In fact, Paul’s instruction to love one’s neighbor as oneself is a quotation
from the Torah, namely Leviticus 19:18 (see also Jesus’s quotations of
this same verse in Matthew 19:19 and 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27). Paul is,
however, putting any such ritual and practice in its proper perspective. Anything
we do, as followers of Christ Jesus, should be governed by one thing only:
love.
In today’s deeply polarized society, so many
people, including those who speak of themselves as Christians, say and do
hate-filled, destructive things, all the while proudly shouting about their “freedom.”
The words of Galatians challenge such awful, narrow-minded cries of “freedom,” protesting
in stark contrast that freedom, in Christ Jesus, is not any individual’s
“right,” but rather is a communal way of being and doing, centered around the
love of one for each and every other.
“Until we are all free, we are
none of us free.” These words from poet Emma Lazarus, written in the face of
rising anti-Semitism, have echoed through the voices of others since Lazarus
first penned them in 1883. Civil rights leader Fannie Lou Hamer similarly said,
at the founding of the National Women’s Political Caucus in 1971, “Nobody’s
free until everybody’s free.” In a 2013 interview, poet Maya Angelou, speaking
of the legacy of MLK who himself referenced Lazarus’s words various times
during the Civil Rights Movement, offered her variation: “No one of us can be
free until everybody is free.”
“Freedom” in Christ Jesus is neither mine, nor yours. It is ours. Freedom from what oppresses our neighbor. Freedom to live abundantly in community. Freedom for which we must work. Freedom for which we must work together in love. God who freely creates created humankind with freedom. At Sophia, you are free—to express yourself, to think creatively and critically, to speak openly and honestly. Free from pressure to conform, you are free to explore and question, tearing down those traditions and systems that hold us captive while building up relationships that bring joy, hope, and peace.
You must be logged in to post a comment.