The Common Denominator

Today I want to start at the end. In summarizing and concluding his book, Disarming Scripture: Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence-Loving Conservatives and Why We All Need to Learn to Read the Bible Like Jesus Did, Derek Flood begins with:

“The primary purpose of Scripture (is) to lead us to the one who is Life, Love Truth, and the Way. Scripture has the primary task of leading us into a living relationship with God in Christ, and then after that to continue to be a window through which we can commune with God in which the Spirit can communicate God’s love to us, leading us to love others with that same Jesus-shaped love. That’s the devotional, Spirit-centered, gospel-focused reading that needs to be at the center of how we read Scripture as Scripture.”[1]

I closed my last blog by saying Jesus established Love as the common denominator for all who read Scripture. The Bible was never intended to be a taskmaster, placing a burden on our back; it was intended to act as a servant, leading us to love God, others and ourselves (Matthew 22:37-40). If we read it in any way that leads to the opposite of this, we get it wrong. So whenever the religious leaders interpreted the Law in any way that hindered people from finding healing, and life, Jesus publicly opposed their hurtful interpretation.

This emphasis on love as the final purpose of Scripture has major consequences because it differs quite sharply from the way the vast majority of us have learned to interpret Scripture. We are taught instead, to focus on the “correct” reading, with everything harmonizing and lining up perfectly. In most cases it’s a kind of circular approach that begins with a doctrine or dogma about the Bible and then uses the Bible to “prove” the doctrine.

But when the focus on “correct” interpretation takes priority, love takes a back seat. The focus “being right” is at the expense of love. It is precisely this “by the book” obsession that led American Christians in the past to justify slavery and eventually led to an uncivil war. And those who took the authority of Scripture most seriously were the ones most likely to conclude that the Bible sanctioned slavery. [2] Unspeakable cruelty and barbarity was committed in the name of submitting to the authority of Scripture.

This obsession with “being right” trumps love—almost always. The prioritizing of scriptural fidelity at the expense of grace is a direct parallel to the fundamentalism of the Pharisees Jesus so adamantly opposed. Despite their desire to “be right," modern-day Christian Pharisees get the Bible dead wrong. As Paul puts it, if we don’t have love, all our doctrines and biblical interpretations are just meaningless noise (I Corinthians 13:1-3). When read “right”, Scripture always leads to love.[3]

And we cannot afford to forget that Jesus loved the people on the fringes of society—the very ones the Pharisees considered unworthy of love; indeed, Jesus loved even those who hated him. And Jesus loved them without requiring them to change first. Indeed, it was his love, given freely and unconditionally, that empowered them to change. 

That last sentence may be the single most frequently missed part of the gospel message: Love/Grace precedes repentance and change; indeed, Love/Grace is the empowering factor behind repentance. We have seen--in history, in Scripture and in our own lives--that the law and the threat of punishment do not motivate repentance and change [how fast do you drive in a 55 mph zone?]. Only love, with its vision of wholeness and peace can do that.

During this final week of Lent—called Holy Week—I hope to make some personal application of the principles I've discovered during my Lenten Pilgrimage toward learning to read the Bible as Jesus did. But for now,

That’s the way I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

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[1] Derek Flood, Disarming Scripture: Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence-Loving Conservatives and Why We All Need to Learn to Read the Bible Like Jesus Did (San Francisco: Metanoia Press, 2014) Kindle edition, Location 3360.

[2] Mark A. Noll, The Civil War as a Theological Crisis (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2006).

[3] Today’s blog is heavily dependent upon Derek Flood, op. cit., Chapter Three, Location 959ff, with an occasional insertion by yours truly.

Violence vs. Compassion in the Bible

Some years ago, for some reason I since have forgotten, I chose to honor the season of Lent, not by giving something up; but rather, by taking something on: doing something to deepen my spirituality or to increase my serving effectiveness, etc.

This year I’m taking on the reading, journaling and assimilating of a book (new to me) by Derek Flood, Disarming Scripture (Metanoia Books, 2014). Its provocative sub-title is “Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence-Loving Conservatives, and Why We All Need to Learn to Read the Bible like Jesus Did.” [Nothing like offending both ends of the spectrum before the reader has even opened the book!]

Flood opens like this:

“Christians have long sought to reconcile the loving God they encounter in the New Testament with the violent and angry depictions of God in the pages of the Old Testament. On the one hand, Jesus tells us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matt 5:44). On the other hand, we read in the Law of Moses the divine command for God’s people to ‘show them no mercy’ (Deut 7:2) and ‘kill everything that breathes’ (Deut 20:16). Although it may be hard for us to face, such glaring contrasts found within the canon of Scripture are hard to overlook.”

Hard to overlook, indeed! My first serious crisis of faith was a direct result of that same kind of what appeared to be absolute contradictions in the Bible. Flood continues:

“Does the Bible describe a God of love or a God of genocide? How are we to reconcile that the apparent answer to this question is that it describes both? As a people of faith, we need to face the sobering fact that some parts of our Bible command us to love our enemies, while other parts command mercilessly slaughtering them.”

And then he adds a footnote:

“It’s important to note that this contrast is not simply between what Christians refer to as the New and Old Testaments. The Hebrew Bible itself contains both message of compassion and mercy, as well as other passages like the ones above that promote the polar opposite. Similarly, as we will see in later chapters, the New Testament has been used to justify slavery and state violence. So the answer is not as simple as rejecting the Old and focusing on the New, but will require us to go deeper.”

At this point Flood has my absolute attention; and I’m still on page 1! He promises that the book will attempt to wrestle honestly “with these questions from a perspective of faith, with the ultimate goal of understanding how Jesus’ reading of Scripture led him to a message of radical forgiveness and enemy love, and how adopting his way of reading Scripture can allow us to faithfully confront religious violence as well, rather than seeking either to justify it or explain it away.”

I honestly don’t think I’ve ever tried, intentionally or even consciously, to use Scripture to justify or rationalize any form of violence. On the other hand, I’ve never been able to accept the notion that the Bible is self-contradictory. So, here is how I’ve dealt with (or attempted to deal with) apparent contradictions in the Bible.

I believe God is a self-revealing being, and that humanity is capable of perceiving and assimilating such revelation. But humanity is incomplete [many would say humanity is sinful, meaning broken or flawed or even evil. There are multiple words in the original biblical languages we translate, “sin.” My understanding of sin, based those multiple words in the Bible’s original languages, is that it means incomplete or separated.]  Incomplete humanity is not capable of comprehending the full revelation of God (at least, not all at once)[1], but is capable of a growing understanding based upon the cumulative witness of those who have gone before and who, within the community of faith, have shared their understanding.

In many cases, even when violence is commanded, the action called for is a progression away from a more savage to a less savage violence.  If you were to lay out the commands of God along a time-line, I think you would observe a consistent movement from the primitive, brutal savagery of the early bronze (Neolithic) age, and toward the more compassionate teachings of Jesus.

I believe the witness of Scripture is honest and does not try to rationalize or sugar-coat the brutality that earlier generations assumed to be the will of God. Those earlier generations were being faithful within the context of their God-understanding, and those who recorded their stories were also faithful and honest in their reporting.

And I further believe that the self-revelation of God continues today, and will continue for as long as there is a human race. With each passing generation our understanding of God’s love and grace grows more and more comprehensive, embracing and including an ever-wider spectrum of humanity.

But even with 20/20 hindsight and even with the perspective gained by standing on the shoulders of previous generations, I have difficulty even imagining a broader expression of divine love than is expressed in Jesus’ command to “love your enemies.”

I’m anxious to see where Derek Flood’s writing will lead me. I’d love for someone else to read it and dialogue with me along the way.

In any case, during Lent I’ll share my responses and insights in this blog—for any who are interested.

That’s the way I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

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[1] For example, at Sinai, when the Lord descended upon the mountain, a cloud covered the mountain, such that the people could not “see” God (Exodus 19 – 20). Moses was not permitted a full vision of God, but only a partial one (Exodus 33:19-20).