Why Bother with the Bible? Part 4

Why should anyone read the Bible?

Answer: Because the Bible bears witness to the revelation of God. It reveals God’s will.

So far, so good, but as soon as we think about revelation, we realize that what are talking about is received revelation–revelation that human beings, dwelling in particular cultural situations, have received. There is, in other words, no such thing as pure revelation, untouched by human hands.

For instance, Jesus commands the disciples to love one another and to be servants to one another. But this message comes in the form of a culturally particular practice, foot-washing. In the Old Testament, it appears in the context of farming communities: “You shall not watch your neighbor’s ox or sheep straying away and ignore them; you shall take them back to their owner.”

Revelation, in other words, cannot be separated from context. It is received and understood according to the experience of people in their cultural situations. That’s why, instead of saying that the Bible is revelation, it’s better to say that the Bible is a record of the struggle of a particular people to hear, understand, and live by God’s revelation.

Why is it important to emphasize the contextual nature of the Bible? Because, while many Christians claim that they’re not Fundamentalists, most are actually selective Fundamentalists.

Take, for example, Genesis 1-3. There are many Christians who long ago gave up a literal-historical interpretation of these chapters. “Oh, it’s obviously poetic or metaphorical,” they would say. “No one can believe that heaven is really ‘up there’ above the material firmament that holds back the upper waters. And no one really thinks that the earth rests on pillars sunk into the deep. Oh, yes, of course the Old Testament teaches this, but anyone can see that it’s just a metaphor or perhaps a relic of the ancient ways of thinking.”

But these same Christians often (in my experience) adopt a wholly different attitude when we turn to other subjects in these chapters. Suddenly, Genesis becomes a repository of divine truth about the nature of gender and family. “Genesis clearly teaches,” they observe, “that in the beginning God created two, and only two, genders and that the desire of each would be only toward the other.” So, while it is safe (on this view) to treat Genesis’ cosmology as metaphor or poetry, the story of Adam and Eve must be accepted as a direct and utterly clear declaration of God’s will regarding gender and sexuality.

This attitude rests on the conviction that we are able to cull out those parts of the Bible that are cultural relics (cosmology, foot-washing, etc.) while distilling the Bible’s pure revelatory content–its teachings that are permanently valid in all times and cultures. This is what I call “selective Fundamentalism.”

The truth is that every sentence in the Bible was written from a specific, ancient cultural situation. The Bible writers struggled to grasp the implications of revelation with all the presuppositions, beliefs, and prejudices of their time (just as we today read the Bible with all of the presuppositions, beliefs, and prejudices of our time). How else could 1 Peter say, “Sarah obeyed Abraham and called him lord” and “Husbands … show consideration for your wives in your life together, paying honor to the woman—though the weaker vessel, they are joint heirs of the gracious gift of life.” In spite of ingenious attempts by interpreters to avoid the obvious, it is clear that 1 Peter reflects an ancient view of women an intrinsically inferior to men.

Matthew being inspired (Caravaggio)

The idea that biblical authors wrote in and from their cultural perspectives does not negate the belief that the authors were guided by the Holy Spirit. It is belief in this guidance that justifies our reading the Bible today.

At the same time, it should be clear that the Spirit’s guidance did not involve canceling or overriding the writers’ cultural horizons. The Spirit did not pour divine thoughts or words into the brains of the writers. Paul, like every other biblical author, shared in the cultural prejudices of his time–when women pray, they should cover their heads.

And yet, as thoroughly immersed in ancient culture as it is, the Bible also bears witness to God’s attempt to enlarge our vision. Foreigners who live in the land must be treated like citizens, not like interlopers. Kings must ensure justice, not amass wealth. Worship without concern for the poor is repugnant. In Christ, common distinctions (economic status, ethnic identity, gender) belong to the old age that is passing away.

The church’s task today is exactly what it was for the biblical writers, namely, to meditate on God’s revelation and discern its meaning and implications in our context. Accomplishing this task does not involve latching onto particular passages in the Bible that appear to address today’s issues and proclaiming them to be the eternal truth. What this task does require is a patient dialogue with the biblical tradition, a careful listening to the ways in which its writers struggled to hear and respond to God.


2 thoughts on “Why Bother with the Bible? Part 4

  1. Sam, this was good for me as I have had (and still have) a struggle with the murky middle between real actual revelation and simply old cultural baggage. And, frankly, I think those can be mixed, which makes the sifting process even more murky. I can’t think of an example at the moment, but I’m sure there must be examples of this. I think of the direction given to film students to be very particular/specific in their film making (ie. don’t try to speak vague truths to a larger audience. That is, don’t try to be profound.) In some way, by being very clear and specific about time and place and character (even if it is past or future), somehow that particularity helps the content to transcend the specific cultural/personal moment.
    You helped me clarify ends of the spectrum and that’s a step forward for me.

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    1. Thanks, Rick. Maybe an example of the murky middle would be the teaching of Acts and 1 Timothy regarding wealth, which amounts to a vague command to be generous. It’s not obviously tied to specific Greco-Roman practices, but it’s also not totally clear what it would look like in our context.

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