Month: September 2020

I am currently taking a course on the New Testament from the University of Dubuque. Our textbook reading last week was about Jesus and the Gospels, broadly speaking. In church, we normally use all of the New Testament together to get a view of Jesus. In scholarly study, however, each viewpoint is taken first as a self-contained description, and then in comparison. For example, Mark takes up the story when Jesus is baptized, so when studying Mark, we cannot speak about Jesus’s birth and early life. After understanding Mark’s perspective, we can ask, why did he start there? Why did he leave so many things out that are included in other Gospels?

It occurred to me that in a sense, it is like seeing artwork of the same subject by different artists. A good example I found is Mount Kilimanjaro. I found a huge variety of artistic renderings on Etsy.

Here we have a sparse but realistic representation. The artist describes it as “colourful and simple.” A similar option below replaces clouds with trees. Why? What do the two artists intend? This second option is even available with a wide range of colors for the sky, allowing the purchaser to put themselves into the scene, or to put the scene into their home in a way that has meaning to them.

Here we have a vintage map that portrays Kilimanjaro in a VERY different way. Different views for different purposes. All three that we have seen are beautiful in their own ways, useful in their own ways, and tell us about both the artist and the buyer—what they value, what they prioritize, how they expect the artwork to fit into their lives.

I could go on. Some versions have people or animals in them, with varying levels of emphasis relative to the mountain. Some are much more realistic, others much more abstract. Yet all address the same subject.

Humans are storytellers. From our holy books to our daily news, what captivates us is a story. When we hear a good story (or see a good piece of art, which is a visual story), we put ourselves into it. We imagine being a fly on the wall or being one of the characters. We feel what the storyteller wants us to feel.

If we’re not careful, we can easily be led astray by good storytellers who have hidden motives. They show us a warped version of reality, provoke the right emotions—empathy, anger, fear, love—to satisfy THEIR goals. It may be an accurate rendering from a certain angle, but told in an intentionally deceptive way to bring certain features into sharper contrast.

Our task, then, is to make use of different perspectives to get a truer view. A good Christian doesn’t read just one Gospel, but all four, and the rest of the Bible too. A good historian doesn’t just read the “official” version of events, but many writings from both the winning and losing sides, from nobles and commoners. A good citizen doesn’t revere a single news source, but rather gets information from many sources. (I discovered The Flip Side a while back. They send a summary each weekday of different perspectives on a single issue: left, right, libertarian, etc. I highly recommend it.)

One parting thought: Mount Kilimanjaro is in Tanzania. However, the best views of it, the views rendered by most of the artwork, are from Kenya. Make of that what you will.

In Common Call, we are working through the Phoenix Affirmations. These are a set of twelve principles affirmed by a particular group of progressive Christians. We don’t all agree with all of them, but they are excellent discussion starters.

This week, we discussed the second affirmation:

Christian love of God includes listening for God’s Word which comes through daily prayer and meditation, studying the ancient testimonies which we call Scripture, and attending to God’s present activity in the world.

The question becomes, though, how to read Scripture? Whatever religion you may be, there are ancient writings that are revered—the Bible, Koran, Talmud, Bhagavad Gita, Tipiṭaka, and so forth. These writings all date to now-dead cultures. Most began as oral traditions that were eventually written down. Early manuscripts are all fragmentary, and some words are difficult or impossible to translate.

One option is to hand the responsibility of interpreting Scripture off to experts. There is certainly logic in this approach. This was the default position for most of medieval times, if only because of widespread illiteracy in the relevant language(s). This is still the approach in many religious traditions. I will say that when I read certain sections of the Bible, I don’t get a whole lot out of it, without someone else more learned than me to interpret.

But if we are going to encounter the Scripture ourselves, we must be aware of three concepts: exegesis, eisegesis, and hermeneutics. Exegesis is the right approach: encountering the text through the lens of their original context without any pre-conceived conclusions. Eisegesis is far more common: starting with a conclusion and finding text to support it, or reading a given text in a way that confirms our pre-conceived notions. Hermeneutics is the way we perform exegesis. These three concepts need a lot more exploration than I can give them.

The essential notion is this: read the Bible the way it was written, and include the context. When I was young, Mizpah coin jewelry was popular. The Mizpah concept derives from Genesis 31:49: “It was also called Mizpah, because he said, ‘May the Lord keep watch between you and me when we are away from each other.’” People intend it to connote a beautiful emotional bond between friends or lovers who are separated from each other. Yet if you read all of Genesis 31, a totally different view emerges. Jacob is feuding with his father-in-law, Laban. They finally settled it by setting up a heap of stones to witness Laban’s pronouncement (Genesis 31:50): “If you mistreat my daughters or if you take any wives besides my daughters, even though no one is with us, remember that God is a witness between you and me.” So it’s not a sweet emotional bond; it’s a threat.

I’m scheduled to preach next Sunday, September 13. In preparation, I selected the Gospel text from the lectionary, Matthew 18:21-35. It is a parable about forgiveness. The parable itself has plenty of depth and nuance. However, the parable and message is much richer if read in the context of the whole of Matthew 18. Here, Jesus is giving his fourth discourse, instructing his disciples about how to live in community together. The discourse covers a lot of ground regarding our sinful nature, the way we hurt each other, and how to respond appropriately when someone sins against you. (Spoiler alert: we’re supposed to forgive them.) If you just read verses 21-35, you would get just the part about forgiving someone seventy-seven times. But if you just read verses 15-20, you would get just the part about casting out sinners from your fellowship. If you just read verse 20, you would hear Jesus’s famous maxim, “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”

The Bible is a thick book. The first part was written over a period of several centuries by a civilization that was destroyed. A few additional books were added as that civilization re-built. Then four centuries later, the New Testament was written, mostly by unknown authors (ascribed by tradition, not factual evidence).

So because it’s such a thick book, written by so many people with so many different goals and contexts, in such a foreign culture, it is possible to find scripture to support nearly any position. Eisegesis thrives because it’s easy. Actually encountering the words as written and intended requires humility and the guidance of the Holy Spirit. May God be with you as you strive to encounter God’s Word today.