Читать книгу Reading the Bible Badly - Karl Allen Kuhn - Страница 7

“I don’t interpret the Bible. I just read it!”

The speaker punctuated his pronouncement with a dramatic fist pound on the heavy oak table.

Gathered around were members of a Sunday morning Bible study I had been asked to lead for several weeks. Nods from a couple of others indicated that the gentleman speaking these words was not alone in his frustration. Perhaps I was being too pushy.

These folk, after all, had been meeting long before I joined the congregation. Over the years, the group had established its own method for reading Scripture. In fact, their way of making sense of Scripture just seemed so natural to them it was not even a “method” at all. They just read it.

My years of teaching biblical studies have led me to discern that there are many Christians for whom understanding Scripture is pretty much a matter of just reading it. What appear to me as rather complex arrays of assumptions about the character of Scripture and sophisticated interpretive dances with biblical texts become learned patterns of reading behavior that are absorbed—unconsciously it seems—by groups and individuals. They have trouble imagining reading Scripture any other way, because their way of reading Scripture is not a “way” at all. It is simply reading. Like breathing.

I have noted another common tendency in how Christian readers engage the Bible. They look to faithful experts to tell them what the Bible has to say. Such folks recognize their own limitations in unveiling the truth of Scripture and in varying degrees rely on pastors, evangelists, scholars, and online bloggers to do the reading for them. Some will shop around and gravitate to those experts who read Scripture in a way that resonates with them. Others remain devoted to a particular pastor or teacher.

But, in most cases, the “methods” of these experts are of little interest to those who listen to them and learn from them and even read the Bible like them. Followers may believe that the way their expert reads Scripture is the right way, as opposed to others. But the rightness of any way of reading Scripture is for most folks more about the results than the process. The results are the foreground. The method is the background. As background, it is easy to forget that it is even there.

But as with nearly all things, what you get out of Scripture has a heck of a lot do to with what you put into it.

The Necessity of Interpretation

“I don’t interpret the Bible, I just read it.”

I noted that not everyone in that Bible Study group was nodding in agreement with the fist-pounding but otherwise dignified gentleman sitting across the table from me. This gave me a ray of hope that some in the group might find what I had to say helpful. I had been attempting to explain the importance of reading biblical texts in relation to their historical and cultural contexts (which we will discuss in the next chapter). Looking back to that Bible study session, perhaps it would have helped if I had begun by talking about the necessity, the unavoidability, of interpretation.

Perhaps that would be a good place for us to start.

Making Meaning

Any act of discerning meaning is an act of interpretation. Please do me a favor and reread that statement. It is really important.

Any act of discerning meaning is an act of interpretation (okay, sorry, just to be sure).

Few such blanket statements are to be trusted as true in every circumstance. But I think this statement probably qualifies as one of those few. Beyond primal, instinctive impulses (such as “ouch!” or “run!”), we simply cannot make sense of anything without interpreting it. No matter the object of our consideration, for us to make the transition from the sensory stimulation caused in us by that object to an understanding of that object in relation to ourselves and our world we must engage that object through a complex, calculating, mental process. We must interpret its significance in relation to what we already know to be true about the world and ourselves. This is worth repeating: any act of discerning meaning is an act of interpretation.

The fact that most of the time we may not be consciously aware that we are actively interpreting all sorts of sensory and mental stimuli as we go about our daily lives does not mean we are not doing it. It often is, as I stated above, like breathing. That which is most essential to our cognitive functioning, like a beating heart is to our physical functioning, is something we often take for granted. It is so “under the radar” that we are often unaware it is occurring. But, in reality, everything we know is the product of a complex web of associations we weave in our minds guided by a host of factors such as our mental and emotional state at that moment, life experiences, culture, environment, relationships, views on life and the world.

Most of us do not become aware of how critical these hidden “meaning-making processes” are until they are challenged by extraordinary events, or compromised by a physical impairment impacting our cognitive faculties. When encountering a traumatic, life-altering situation, many find it difficult to make immediate sense of what has just occurred, and what it means for them moving forward. Very simply, they need time to “process” the experience. Sometimes, their views of themselves, the world, and even their faith shift as a result of the experience. Many in the early stages of dementia come to the heartbreaking realization that their ability to make sense of their environment and the lives they once knew—their ability to interpret their world—is deteriorating. Trauma and illness have a way of leading us to recognize numerous things we take for granted. Our ability to interpret, our need to interpret, can be one of them.

Making Meaning Differently

There are, of course, countless indications that the world in which we live and the situations, persons, and objects we encounter within it need to be interpreted in order to be comprehended. Among the most obvious is that we human beings often disagree with one another about how to understand the situations, persons, and objects we encounter. Some of these disagreements are trivial. Others have far-reaching, sometimes tragic consequences for individuals, couples, families, communities, countries, and even the world. Not only is interpretation an inescapable reality for all thinking minds on this planet, it is also an extraordinarily important, and contentious, reality. We make meaning differently.

The Necessity of Biblical Interpretation

Just as any object we encounter needs to be interpreted in order for us to make sense of it, so too does Scripture. With all due respect to that gentleman sitting across the table from me those many years ago, and to all who think as he did, there simply is no such thing as “just reading it.”

I have this on good authority. Scripture itself makes clear that the actions and will of God need to be discerned, or figured out. Scripture itself tells us interpretation is essential to the vocation of God’s people.

God, Help Me Understand

The Bible affirms this reality in countless ways. One of the more obvious is when voices in Scripture ask for God’s guidance in determining what God wants them to do. Consider, for instance, these words from Psalm 25, a psalm in which the psalmist pleads for deliverance from pernicious, nasty foes. We might expect the psalmist in this situation simply to ask God to “blast those evil buggers!” But remarkably, the psalmist not only calls on God for deliverance from the deadly adversaries, but also from his or her own propensity to stray from God’s will.1

4 Make me to know your ways, O Lord;

teach me your paths.

5 Lead me in your truth, and teach me,

for you are the God of my salvation;

for you I wait all day long.

6 Be mindful of your mercy, O Lord, and of your steadfast love,

for they have been from of old.

7 Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions;

according to your steadfast love remember me,

for your goodness’ sake, O Lord!

8 Good and upright is the Lord;

therefore he instructs sinners in the way.

9 He leads the humble in what is right,

and teaches the humble his way.

10 All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness,

for those who keep his covenant and his decrees.

The psalmist, in other words, needs help figuring out what it means to walk in God’s ways and paths in the midst of these trying circumstances. Notice the references to “teach,” “know,” “instruct,” “lead,” “right,” “truth,” “way,” “path”—many of which are repeated. Notice the psalmist’s desire to leave behind “the sins of my youth.” This is an individual crying out for instruction and transformation! The psalmist already knows God as Savior (v. 5), God’s steadfast love and mercy (vv. 6, 7), and God’s “covenant and decrees” (v. 10). But even so, the way forward is not altogether clear. The psalmist needs help interpreting God’s instruction in order to live it out faithfully in his or her troubled present.

Note the similar chords struck by Paul at a key transitional moment in his letter to the Romans. Here, Paul urges members of the Roman church, in response to God’s great act of mercy in Jesus, to orient their actions, hearts, and minds anew—to be transformed or “metamorphisized”—so that they may be able to rightly discern the will of God.2

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect (Rom 12:1–2).

Incomplete and Misguided Understandings of God’s Ways

Turning to the Gospels, we find the disciples repeatedly asking Jesus to clarify his teaching, and with a regularity that sometimes exasperates him: “Do you not understand this parable? How then will you understand any of the parables?!” (Mark 4:13). But, of course, Jesus always goes on to explain.

We also encounter numerous examples of biblical interpretation gone awry. At the center of Jesus’ many disagreements with his fellow Israelites were their very different modes of interpreting their sacred tradition—the law (Torah) and the prophets—what Christians know as the Old Testament. Near the start of his “Sermon on the Mount” (Matt 5:1–7:29), Jesus announces,

17“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfil. 18For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. 19Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt 5:17–20)

In the verses to follow, specific differences in the interpretative stances of Jesus and his opponents become clear. Jesus prefaces a series of teachings with the rather audacious refrain, “You have heard it was said to those of ancient times . . . But I say to you . . .” (see Matt 5:21–48). He then goes on to offer what his detractors would have surely thought were quite radical (and wrong) takes on God’s Torah. As if anticipating their objections, Jesus then offers concrete examples of how the Pharisees and scribes, among others, fail to correctly interpret and embody the will of God (see 6:1–7:12). Jesus criticizes the religious leaders and those who follow them for their pursuit of honor and wealth, collusion with the elite, condemnation of others, and lack of love. Then the final words of Jesus’ sermon underscore the ramifications of failing to interpret God’s will with humble, justice-guided, other-centered hearts (7:13–20), and failing to truly live out the truth revealed by Jesus:

Everyone who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock . . . and everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand (see 7:24–29).

As Matthew emphasizes throughout his Gospel, it is Jesus’ interpretation of the Torah and prophets that is to empower the lives of the righteous. More than just reading Scripture is required. One must read it guided by the one who fulfills the very purpose of Scripture and, unlike the scribes and Pharisees, truly opens the way into God’s realm.

Jesus’ Followers Interpreting Their Traditions

Examples of various characters interpreting their sacred traditions abound throughout both testaments, but are especially prevalent throughout the New Testament as the early believers sought to make sense of their experience of Jesus. Many of these examples indicate that the relationship between Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection and the Israelite Scriptures was not—as many Christians today often assume—self-evident. It needed to be explained. In Luke 24, the resurrected Jesus repeatedly corrects the disciples’ misapprehension of the events that have just taken place by turning to Scripture. For example,

Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. (See also Luke 24:44–47.)

In Acts of the Apostles, we find the early believers taking up Jesus’ ministry of interpretation and proclamation. The speeches of Peter in the opening chapters, and those of Paul and others to follow, aim to help both Jews and Gentiles make sense of a crucified and risen messiah, a reality that radically conflicted with Israelite expectations of how God would redeem Israel and the world.3 Consider this moving scene from Acts 8.

26Then an angel of the Lord said to Philip, “Get up and go towards the south to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza.” (This is a wilderness road.) 27So he got up and went. Now there was an Ethiopian eunuch, a court official of the Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, in charge of her entire treasury. He had come to Jerusalem to worship 28and was returning home; seated in his chariot, he was reading the prophet Isaiah.29Then the Spirit said to Philip, “Go over to this chariot and join it.” 30So Philip ran up to it and heard him reading the prophet Isaiah. He asked, “Do you understand what you are reading?” 31He replied, “How can I, unless someone guides me?” And he invited Philip to get in and sit beside him. 32Now the passage of the scripture that he was reading was this:

“Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter,

and like a lamb silent before its shearer,

so he does not open his mouth.

33 In his humiliation justice was denied him.

Who can describe his generation?

For his life is taken away from the earth.”

34The eunuch asked Philip, “About whom, may I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?” 35Then Philip began to speak, and starting with this scripture, he proclaimed to him the good news about Jesus. (Acts 8:26–35)

The eunuch read an eloquent, profound, and penetrating piece of Scripture. But his act of reading—just reading—wasn’t nearly enough. “How can I understand this unless someone guides me?” he laments. Then Philip begins to speak.

The Challenge of Biblical Interpretation

Any act of discerning meaning is an act of interpretation (again, my apologies).

I hope that the preceding discussion has also made it quite evident that the act of discerning meaning from Scripture also necessitates interpretation. We never “just read it.” In fact, interpretation is an essential part of our vocation as followers of Jesus.

But the biblical examples of biblical interpretation that we glanced at above also make it clear that there are helpful and unhelpful ways of interpreting Scripture. Furthermore, the history of Christianity has also made it clear that Christians themselves have often disagreed over what are helpful and unhelpful, faithful and unfaithful, ways of reading Scripture.

And sadly, throughout our history, there have been ways of reading Scripture that have resulted in horrific acts of injustice against others. In our own American story, scores of Christians have used Scripture to justify the practice of slavery. We have also used it to promote the doctrine of Manifest Destiny—the notion that white colonists were destined by God to “settle” the west and lead indigenous Americans to civility and faith, even at the cost of their lands, liberty, lives, and children. Even today, many use Scripture to justify discrimination against members of LGBTQIA+ communities, women, Jews and Muslims, and ignore Scripture’s ever persistent call to choose love over fear.

But Christians have also been inspired and empowered by Scripture to rail against slavery and the physical and cultural genocide of native Americans, and to name homophobia, patriarchy, Islamophobia, and racism as the injustices they are.

How are we to account for these incredibly disparate ways of reading Scripture by Christians, beyond saying that some are clearly the result of human selfishness, anxiety, and short-sightedness? How are we to account for the multitude of disparities in how Christians today read Scripture?

Factors that Complicate Our Interpretation of Scripture

Interpretation is a human endeavor. Like all human endeavors it can be blessed by human ingenuity, creativity, brilliance, and openness to the guidance of God, or it can be marred by human fallibility, small-mindedness, and ignorance. Perhaps more common still, it can be influenced by some combination of several of those tendencies, both good and bad.

Our own personal histories and cultural settings also impact the meaning we discern from a biblical passage. New Testament scholar Mark Allan Powell has investigated, catalogued, and reported on differences in the ways readers understand scriptural passages. Particularly illuminating is a study Powell conducted on Luke’s parable of the “Prodigal” Son (Luke 15:11–32).4 In the study, Powell asked one hundred Americans of diverse gender, race, age, economic status, and religious affiliation to read the parable carefully, close their Bibles, and then recount the parable as completely as possible.

All of the American respondents (100 percent) remembered the detail of the son squandering his father’s wealth. This makes sense. What a loser! But, incredibly, only a small fraction (6 percent) were able to recall the detail of the famine. And this was not a run-of-the-mill famine—it was a “severe famine.” Many were starving, and many were likely dying (see Luke 15:14). But the American readers Powell surveyed just didn’t seem to take notice.

Powell then conducted the same study with fifty diverse respondents in St. Petersburg, Russia. In sharp contrast to their American counterparts, 84% of the Russian respondents remembered the detail of the famine. Interestingly, only 34% recalled the son squandering his father’s wealth. Wow.

Powell presumes, rightly, I think, that the reason the Americans surveyed remembered the detail of the squandering and did not (except for a few) recall the famine is that they understood the son’s squandering of his father’s wealth as the only, or primary, cause of the son’s plight. In other words, the narrative function of the squandering was just too essential to ignore, whereas the famine (the severe famine) was regarded as an ancillary detail that could be easily forgotten! In sharp contrast, the vast majority of the Russian respondents did not consider the detail of the famine superfluous, but essential to understanding why the son was in need.

This raises the question of why the American readers would focus on the son’s squandering and the Russian readers on the famine. Powell proposes,

One probably does not need to look too far for a social or psychological explanation for this data. In 1941, the German army laid siege to the city of St. Petersburg (then Leningrad) and subjected its inhabitants to what was in effect a 900-day famine. During that time, 670,000 people died of starvation. Some of the current inhabitants of the city are survivors of that horror; more are descendents of survivors . . . In modern St. Petersburg, typical social issues (abortion, care of the elderly, imprisonment of lawbreakers, socialized medicine, and so on) are often considered through the lens of an important question: but what if there is not enough food? . . . It is, I think, not surprising that in this social location, more than four-fifths of the persons who read Luke’s story of “the Prodigal Son” and then repeat it from memory do not forget that there was a famine.5

Here is the important point Powell’s study illustrates. Reading the parable through lenses shaped in part by their experience and historical memory, Russian readers find it speaking to dimensions of God’s character and provision quite differently than their American counterparts, whose lenses are shaped by other cultural and historical realities.

American readers understand the parable to be emphasizing the moral depravity of the son’s squandering, the licentiousness of his pleasure-seeking lifestyle, and his repentance from his sinful ways. In contrast, Russian readers, who regard the famine as the primary cause of the son’s suffering and attach less importance to the son’s spending habits, see the parable as emphasizing God’s gracious provision for and welcome of all the lost, alone, and famished into God’s kingdom. In this reading, it is God’s rescue of the needy from matters beyond their control rather than their moral transformation that takes center stage.6 In Russia (and likely also in first-century Palestine where deadly famine was an all-too-common occurrence), it makes sense that that this reading of the parable would be far more common than in America, where resources are far more abundant for many and perhaps also more frequently squandered.7

Sometime later, Powell had the opportunity to conduct a similar study on the parable with Tanzanian seminary students, in which he specifically asked them why it was that the prodigal son found himself in need. He eagerly awaited the results, wondering which of the two reasons held in opposition by the American and Russian students (squandering and famine, respectively) would be favored by the Tanzanians. The answer: neither! The majority of the responses, from a people who highly value the virtue of hospitality, identified as the chief cause of the son’s hunger the fact that no one gave him anything to eat (see Luke 15:16).8

What we bring to a text really matters.

The Reading Glasses We Wear

Any act of discerning meaning is an act of interpretation (last time, I promise).

People interpret Scripture differently.

Our interpretation of Scripture is complicated by a host of factors, especially by what we bring with us to the biblical texts.

So far so good?

Excellent. We are now going to take this a step further by delving a little more deeply into epistemological and hermeneutical theory. Hang in there. This will not be as painful as it might seem. At least I hope not.

What is Your Hermeneutic?

A foundational assumption among many contributing to the study of epistemology (the study of how we know things), and the related discussion of critical thinking, is that all knowledge is conditioned by the commitments, experiences, and tendencies interpreters or researchers bring to their encounter with the world.9 As stated above, this is no less the case with biblical interpretation. What we bring to the biblical text plays a significant role in what we get out of it.

In the fields of literary and biblical studies, we often refer to what one brings to their reading of the text as one’s “hermeneutic.”10 One’s hermeneutic—or interpretive approach—is shaped by a rich combination of realities that guides the way one reads a text. To repeat and expand on the list of things that influence our attempts to make meaning, a hermeneutic includes and is shaped by one’s:

 state of mind

 culture

 historical context

 life experiences (such as family background, education, socioeconomic status, gender, sexual orientation, political affiliations, etc.)

 view of the world, or worldview

 view of the nature of the text they are reading (e.g., what Scripture is—its nature as the word of God and humans)

 goals for engaging that text (what I am looking to get out of it)

 assumptions of how to best engage that text (how I go about accessing what I want to get out of it).

Perhaps it will help to think of your hermeneutic as a set of reading glasses. The lenses of those glasses are shaped by the various tendencies, perspectives, commitments, and assumptions you bring to the biblical texts. And this is very important: we all need to wear such glasses to “see” anything, including Scripture. It these glasses that set the ground rules for how we view, how we interpret, the biblical writings. And the fact that Christians often read the Bible very differently is due to the reality that we come to Scripture wearing different reading glasses.

The Perspectival and Selective Character of Interpretation

That Scripture would be subject to disparate readings should not surprise us. Whenever any of us seek to understand an object or circumstance, our attempts to do so are always perspectival. This is simply to repeat what I have already stated: our understanding, our interpretation, is always conditioned by the reading glasses we use, which are in turn shaped by our experiences and commitments.

Relatedly, our attempts to understand are also commonly selective. We tend to cast our gaze on aspects of an object or circumstance we most readily relate to or understand. We look for the familiar. We start with what we know. When dealing with complex matters or situations, we often use what we know to help us make sense of the rest.

For example, if I am fishing a lake for the first time, I will start by focusing on techniques and patterns that have proven productive elsewhere. Or, if I am encountering the work of a philosopher that is new to me, I will often use parts of her discussion that make sense to me in order to help me figure out the parts that are unclear.

These two tendencies—the perspectival and selective—are natural and really unavoidable. In order for us to know anything, it has to mesh or intersect with the thought patterns and belief systems we already hold. Even if new information radically transforms our belief systems, it still has to gain a foothold in our psyches by connecting with at least some of the stuff that is already there. Our minds are not empty vessels. Zero times anything always equals zero. Raw materials are needed for any reaction to occur. And all of us have plenty of raw materials—plenty of perspective—lodged in our minds and hearts.

The selectivity with which we engage new objects or experiences in order to make sense of them can also be quite useful. Starting with what we know enables us to begin the process of feeling or thinking our way through a problem or situation. Gravitating to the familiar can give us the confidence we need to keep moving into uncharted territory. Conversely, when we lack any clear connection to an object or situation, it is easy to become overwhelmed or cognitively paralyzed: “I don’t know where to begin!”

Being perspectival and selective interpreters can be a good thing! And that’s good to know, because we really don’t have any other choice.

Seeing Differently and Reading Badly

But being perspectival and selective interpreters also presents challenges. The fact we Christians read the Bible very differently from one another can be somewhat troubling, especially when those differences are about essential elements of our tradition. And if our understandings of Scripture and how to read it and the interpretations we take from it are so variable, what does it mean for us to claim these writings as the “inspired Word of God”?

This is not a trivial query. It is one we will return to in the pages to follow (see chapter 2). However, I would argue that our use of Scripture in the church is even more problematic than this. Not only do we as American Christians often read Scripture very differently than one another. We also tend it read it very badly.

The lenses we have crafted, consciously or not, often distort what Scripture seeks to show us about the will and ways of God. Some distortions are more severe than others. Some, as we noted above in the cases of slavery, Manifest Destiny, patriarchy, racism, Islamophobia, and homophobia, are downright tragic. Others are less extreme but still lead to the serious consequence of muting or misshaping the Bible’s witness.

When paired with uncritical, biased, or unfaithful thinking, our perspectival and selective natures can lead to uncritical, biased, and unfaithful interpretations. The perspectival and selective character of our reading glasses are unavoidable and even valuable assets, but only if we are willing to recognize when our prescription needs to change, when the lenses we use are actually distorting rather than illuminating what it is we are trying to see.

Let’s return to the example of me fishing a new lake. Suppose I fish that lake all day using the methods I found useful elsewhere but only catch a few fish. I return to the lake several more times, using the same methods, and end up with the same meager results. I conclude that problem must be with the lake—if there were fish here I (masterful fisherman that I am) would surely catch them! Or, to expand the analogy, I catch a bunch of fish but only of one species, and a species I really don’t like. So, I conclude that there must not be many fish of more desirable species in the lake and decide to move on to the next.

Well, of course, you readily see the problem in my thinking. It is biased and irrational (and a bit arrogant). It assumes that I already possess all of the skills and knowledge I would need in order to catch any kind of fish I want in any lake. Sadly, I admit to falling victim to such silly thinking more than once, only to be corrected (and humbled) by the reports of other fisherfolk back at the dock.

But I think many of us fall into these patterns of thinking quite commonly. We think we know all that there is to know, or at least all that is worth knowing, about something. We fail to see the potential limitations in our perspectives, our ingrained modes of thought, our gravitation towards and preference for the familiar. Such biased, uncritical thinking is quite human of us. Yet in moments such as these we are at risk of living up to the title “duh-ciples.”

It is just this mode of thinking, though here with more serious consequences than no fish for dinner, that Jesus is getting at when he tells the crowds “You have heard it was said in ancient times . . . but I say to you . . . !” and calls them to build their houses of faith on rock, not sand. This is what Paul is saying when he exhorts the believers in Rome “Do not conform any longer to the patterns of this world, but be transformed in the renewing of your minds!” This is what Isaiah cried out in his lament over Israel, and what Jesus proclaimed as taking place in his day:

14 With them indeed is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah that says:

“You will indeed listen, but never understand,

and you will indeed look, but never perceive.

15 For this people’s heart has grown dull,

and their ears are hard of hearing,

and they have shut their eyes;

so that they might not look with their eyes,

and listen with their ears,

and understand with their heart and turn—

and I would heal them. (Matt 13:14–15; citing Isa 6:9–10)

The faith announced by the prophets, Jesus, and Paul is a faith rightly attuned to the perspectives of God. Unfortunately, it is a faith that does not (yet) come easily to us human creatures. Even Paul, years after his mind-transforming encounter with the risen Jesus, will admit to still seeing as if in a mirror, “dimly” (1 Cor 13:12) and not yet having attained full knowledge of Christ (Phil 3:7–16). Even the Spirit-filled followers of Jesus will disagree (see Acts 6:1, 15:1–21) and get it wrong (Gal 2:11–14) at times. We all struggle with the cost of duh-cipleship.

Adjusting our Lenses

So how do we do better?

The first step, I think, in becoming thoughtful and faithful interpreters of anything, including Scripture, is to recognize we view everything through a set of reading glasses. We have to get to the point where we can boldly proclaim:

“I don’t just read Scripture, doggone it, I interpret it (fist pound)!”

The second, and perhaps more difficult step, is to acknowledge like Paul and many others that our reading glasses may need an adjustment from time to time.

It can be unsettling to recognize that we have not been seeing things clearly. We prefer when all is in order, when we are in command of our faculties, and confident in our views of reality. No one wants to hear that he or she has been mistaken. This is especially so when the things we have not been seeing clearly are very important to us, and when they play a central role in shaping our understanding of the world.

Scripture certainly plays this role for many people of faith. In many communities, Scripture holds a significant degree of authority and power. If some perspective or behavior is deemed “biblical,” then it is seen as the will of God. These are matters of high stakes. It is important to be clear on what is of God, and what is not. It is important, Isaiah cries, to see and hear properly. So, yes, it is certainly understandable that we would resist any claim that we have been seeing and hearing God’s word and will poorly.

Just like the Pharisees did.

Yet take note of this. Faithful recognitions of having misunderstood or neglected the ways of God fill the pages of Scripture. Recall the plea of the psalmist: “Make me to know your paths, O Lord!” In fact, I think we would be hard-pressed to find any major biblical figure that did not need a lens adjustment at some point during his or her life (and most needed several).

For this reason, Jesus proclaims that few things are more righteous (and desperately needed) than humility and repentance! He also makes it clear that few things are more foolish than pride and willful ignorance. Humility is about setting aside the arrogance, fear, and even hatred that is preventing us from seeing as Jesus sees. Repentance is about turning our hearts and heads in new directions, to perceive all things as persons attuned to the realm of God. According to Jesus, lens-adjusting is a necessary, even daily practice for his disciples:

9 Pray, then, in this way:

Our Father in heaven,

hallowed be your name.

10 Your kingdom come.

Your will be done,

on earth as it is in heaven.

11 Give us this day our daily bread.

12And forgive us our debts,

as we also have forgiven our debtors.

13 And do not bring us to the time of trial,

but rescue us from the evil one. (Matt 6:9–13)

Jesus makes it clear that we resist faithful lens-adjusting to our own peril: “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light; but if your eye is unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” (Matt 6:22–23).

This book is about the lenses we use to read Scripture, especially those lenses that lead us to read the Bible badly. The maladjusted lenses I will discuss are common to American Christianity.

These lenses lead American Christians . . .

 to read the Bible’s stories and instruction unaware of their historical and cultural settings, disregarding the testimony of their spiritual ancestors, and finding mostly a mirror image of their own values and selves in Scripture;

 to insist that the Bible must be the “inerrant word of God,” historically factual in every way and doctrinally infallible, overlooking so much of what makes Scripture beautiful and relevant;

 to follow a lectionary that dices and splices Scripture into bite-size morsels for Sunday worship, divorces passages from their biblical settings, strikes verses deemed offensive, and undermines the literary artistry that is the lifeblood of Scripture’s profound revelation;

 to read the Bible in fear, warping its witness to Jesus and tragically neglecting Scripture’s ever-persistent call to compassion, hospitality, and love;

 to read the Bible looking for simple rules that affirm our sense of right and wrong, while missing the point of what true righteousness is about;

 to read the Bible as agents of heterosexual male privilege, using its enculturated patriarchy as a license to deny women’s gifts and their call to leadership in the church, and to discriminate against members of LGBTQIA+ communities.

This book is also an invitation for us, like our ancestors in the faith, to discern those elements of our spiritual upbringing, psyches, and souls that cloud our vision. It is an invitation to seek our own lens adjustments, so that we can more faithfully embody and steward God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.

Reflection or Discussion Questions

1 How would you describe the reading glasses you use for interpreting the Bible? What experiences, beliefs, practices, and traditions shape the way you read Scripture?

2 What do you make of Powell’s experiment with the parable of the “Prodigal” Son? How do you understand the parable? Why do you understand it in this way?

3 Are there elements of your “hermeneutic” (your lens for reading Scripture) that sometimes prevent you from seeing the Bible clearly? If so, where did they come from? Why do you still hold on to them?

4 Are there elements of your hermeneutic that you cannot do without, that are nonnegotiable for you?

1. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture texts are taken from the NRSV.

2. The Greek verb Paul uses here which the NRSV translates as “be transformed” is metamorphēo.

3. The notion of a crucified and resurrected messiah does not appear to have existed in Israelite thought prior to the time of Jesus. The Israelite Scriptures and other Israelite traditions refer to righteous ones who suffer due to their faith in God or on behalf of Israel, such as in the Psalms, the Maccabean traditions, or the Servant Songs of Isaiah (e.g., Isa 52:13–53:12). But there are no surviving Israelite texts prior to Jesus that specifically foretell the crucifixion and resurrection of God’s anointed. For this reason Paul refers to Christ crucified as “a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles” (1 Cor 1:23).

4. Powell, “The Forgotten Famine.” I previously cited and discussed this study in Having Words with God, 118–20.

5. Powell, “The Forgotten Famine,” 266–67.

6. When Powell challenged the Russian students’ focus on the famine as the primary cause of the son’s plight, they replied that during a severe famine even the rich will die from hunger. In fact, the wealthy may be at a disadvantage since they have not cultivated the skills and networks to survive such desperate times.

7. Lest we quickly dismiss the reading of the parable favored by the Russian students as overly tendentious, Powell (“Forgotten Famine,” 279–85) notes that several features of the parable as it appears in Luke’s gospel could be marshaled to support it. He points out that the Greek terms that are commonly rendered “squandering” and “dissolute, “riotous,” “loose,” and “reckless” living in our English Bibles could just as easily be translated in a far less pejorative sense, identifying the son not as “prodigal” (i.e., “recklessly wasteful”) but more along the lines of “carefree spendthrift.” He also argues that viewing the primary focus of the parable as God’s salvation of the wayward and needy actually fits better with the two parables preceding it. Taken together, these three parables respond to the grumbling of the scribes and Pharisees (15:2), and portray “repentance” not so much as the moral transformation of the sinner but God’s gracious act of welcoming home or “finding” those who would otherwise be lost (see 15:32).

8. Powell, “The Timeless Tale of a Prodigal Son.”

9. The terms “point of view” or “frame of reference” are often used in these circles to identify this phenomenon. While the field of epistemology is home to many different theories of knowledge, the contextual nature of meaning has been one of the tenets of postmodern thought to take hold in many modern discussions of how we know things. Moreover, deliberations on epistemological issues now commonly occur outside of traditional philosophical contexts within the natural and social sciences, including biblical studies. Researchers in many fields now feel compelled (and rightly so!) to address the complex nature of knowledge, even in disciplines that are often seen as dealing with “objective” facts.

10. Hermeneutics refers to the practice, or science, of interpretation. Most commonly, its focus is on written texts, but it also includes verbal and nonverbal communication. Accordingly, the term “text” is often employed in the field to refer to both written and verbal communication, as well as nonverbal action that has a communicative function. As a field of thought, it examines the practice of interpretation and critiques methods employed to discern meaning from texts. This book, in other words, and any conversation you might have on biblical interpretation, is part of the field of hermeneutics, which is a sub-discipline of the field of epistemology.