Showing posts with label Bible study. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bible study. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

The Bible: So Misunderstood It's a Sin


Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
I Corinthians 13:1-3

John Wesley cited those familiar verses from Paul’s First Letter to the Church in Corinth as the text for his sermon, “On Charity.” In his opening paragraph, Wesley observed that although Christians believe that “All Scripture is inspired by God,” we also know that all texts are not equal. “There are some Scriptures which more immediately commend themselves to every man's [sic] conscience.” And he argues that this passage from First Corinthians is one of the finest texts in the Bible, one that commends itself universally to all persons, regardless of their faith traditions or lack thereof. Then, as he begins to explore the meaning of charity, as it is contained in Paul’s letter, he notes that “charity” is really not the correct translation of the Greek word, “agape,” which is better translated as “love.”

It is a great sermon, one in which Wesley builds on his own conviction that love of God and neighbor is central to Christian faith and that how we live is more important than what we claim to believe. It is one of the sermons that United Methodists claim as foundational to our understanding of Christian faith and doctrine (insofar as Methodists can be said to have doctrines at all).

I thought of Wesley’s sermon as I was reading Kurt Eichenwald’s long essay in the Christmas issue of Newsweek, “The Bible: So Misunderstood It’s a Sin,” and the firestorm of controversy that it set off. It struck me that Wesley’s nuanced view of Scripture and his awareness of the problems with translation were light years ahead of what Eichenwald seems to assume is the perspective of most Christians. And Wesley was not an obscure scholar. He was a popular preacher more than 250 years ago.

I found the Newsweek essay on line after a friend told me about the essay and about the response to it by the defenders of Christianity on the cable news programs. I assumed that I would find myself siding with Eichenwald against the TV theologians.

In a contest of whose position most misrepresented a faithful reading of Scripture, the cable news folks win that one going away. But the Newsweek essay only looks good by comparison to something much worse.

Eichenwald has his own point of view, which he makes clear in the first two paragraphs:

They wave their Bibles at passersby, screaming their condemnations of homosexuals. They fall on their knees, worshipping at the base of granite monuments to the Ten Commandments while demanding prayer in school. They appeal to God to save America from their political opponents, mostly Democrats. They gather in football stadiums by the thousands to pray for the country’s salvation.

They are God’s frauds, cafeteria Christians who pick and choose which Bible verses they heed with less care than they exercise in selecting side orders for lunch. They are joined by religious rationalizers—fundamentalists who, unable to find Scripture supporting their biases and beliefs, twist phrases and modify translations to prove they are honoring the Bible’s words.


There are many flaws in the Eichenwald analysis, but there are two that particularly stand out.

First, he speaks of Fundamentalist, biblical literalists, conservative Christians, and Evangelicals as if those were basically different names for the same group of people. He almost seems at times to assume that he is speaking about all Christians. And he does not distinguish Christians who are politically conservative from those who are theologically conservative.

Second, he criticizes the biblical literalists from the perspective of biblical literalism. He assumes (or appears to assume) that the biblical texts should be interpreted literally and the problem with those the literalists he criticizes is that they are inconsistent.

He says that the Bible “contradicts itself” by interweaving two different narratives of the stories of Noah and the creation. This, of course, is not new information. Scholars have talked about this since the middle of the nineteenth century. Every pastor trained at a major theological school in the past century is familiar with the different sources woven together in the biblical narrative.

Eichenwald misses the point. The reason that that biblical literalism is so problematic is that the Bible is not meant to be read that way. Jesus and Paul did not read the (Hebrew) Scriptures that way, and the writers of the Hebrew Bible did not read the previously written texts that way. It is not a book of history and science. It’s about ultimate meaning. As Marcus Borg points out, it’s not less than literal; it’s more than literal. The problem with literalism is not that it claims too much, but that it misses too much.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

A Lamp to My Feet and a Light to My Path



I do not turn away from your ordinances,
for you have taught me.
How sweet are your words to my taste,
sweeter than honey to my mouth!
Through your precepts I get understanding;
therefore I hate every false way.
Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.
Psalm 119:102-105
This morning as I was sitting in a coffee shop reading The New York Times on line, I could hear occasional phrases from the conversation of two young men sitting in a booth across the room.

On the table, they each had open Bibles. The young man with the larger Bible was teaching the young man with the smaller Bible. I have seen him in the coffee shop many times; always with his Bible; always teaching another young man.

This should make me glad. What could be better than two young people contemplating what I believe to be the most important book ever written?

For the last several weeks I have spent an hour on Mondays and Tuesdays with Pastor Carol Reale teaching two Confirmation classes. We have spent a lot of time sitting around the table, with our Bibles open, engaged in earnest conversation. And I love it. I love the questions and the insights and the seriousness of our kids. And I want them to love the Bible.

But as I stole a sideways glance at the young men, I felt uneasy.

Part of my uneasiness was because I stereotyped them in the same way that other more secular people stereotype all (or most, or some) Christians. But another part of my uneasiness was because I could tell (am I really certain?) what they were doing. They were not reading the stories; they were picking out the verses. And the man with the larger Bible was explaining what each verse meant. He was connecting a verse in one book to a verse in another to show how they reinforce each other and make the same point. The method is called “proof-texting.” One begins with an assertion and then “proves” it with a Bible verse. Then, building on the first assertion, the argument moves on to ad another assertion “proven” by another text.

The problem with proof-texting is that it treats the Bible as if it were a set of propositions, or a rule book, or an instruction manual. And it approaches the biblical witness as if it were a puzzle to be solved; a hidden message waiting to be decoded.

The truth of the Bible is not in the verses; it is in the stories and the ideas. And it is not hidden. There is no secret to understanding the Bible, other than an openness to the spirit and the willingness to listen as it speaks. When we say that the Bible is true, we don’t mean that it is an accurate account of ancient history or an infallible alternative to modern science; we mean that it is true in our lives. The Bible is our story. It tells us who we are and to whom we belong.

It is dangerous to cast judgment on someone else’s spiritual practice or to question the direction of someone else’s journey. But when we proof-text, we miss the grand sweep of ideas. Instead of hearing a word of grace and hope that opens us to the wonder of God’s presence, we find ourselves in a cramped world of rules and demands that produces guilt rather than grace.