This second instalment 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.

Ethical Interpretation of the Bible

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 instalment 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.

(with Dr. Melissa A. Jackson)

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.

(With Dr. Melissa A. Jackson)

Sophia is a community of freedom.

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.

(with Melissa A. Jackson)

Sophia is a community of inclusion.

“God created humankind in God’s image…” Genesis 1:27

Advent season invites us to consider the meaning of the fact that God chose to speak God’s best word to humankind in the person of a human being, Jesus of Nazareth. Among other things, the Incarnation reminds us that, we too reflect God’s presence in the world somehow.

The term “somehow” is key. The idea of being like God can and has motivated people to try to attain some level of perfection and to judge themselves for failing. What a silly idea! What would a human being perfectly reflecting God’s image look like? Male or female? Tall enough to center a professional basketball team or small enough to jockey a horse? Blue-eyed or brown-eyed? What talents or particular abilities would such a person have?  Would they sing soprano or bass? Obviously, the very idea of a god-like human perfection constitutes a perverse and egocentric idolatry.

A better approach may involve noting the collective noun in Gen 1:27.  God created humankind, not human individuals, in God’s image.  The text even goes on to specify that bearing God’s image requires both male and female, at the same time.  It could have gone on to say both right- and left-handed, both strong and sensitive, both bold and cautious….

One could read this important text as saying that even approaching a reflection of the vast and wondrous image of God requires the totality of humankind – all those who ever lived and ever will, collectively. In this Advent season, if an image is meant to give an idea of the original, let’s look not only to the baby in Bethlehem but to the humankind all around us, worth so much to God that God came to us to tell us so.

At Sophia, precisely because it takes all of humankind throughout the ages to approach imaging  forth the personhood of God, we do not put bounds on inclusion.  We refrain from identifying specific categories of people whom we welcome into our community because, by doing so, we may inadvertently omit someone or imply that we welcome the persons listed but not others.  In fact, history teaches that as society evolves new ‘out-groups’ continually arise. Any ‘list’ of the included risks becoming outdated.  So, at Sophia we insist on honoring the biblical assertion that all are created in the image of God—without exception. All means all. Each life bears an imprint of the divine in an endless diversity. At Sophia, your uniqueness is a gift to be celebrated in a community ready to receive that gift and be transformed by it.