Edgework

If one remains in the realm of Biblicism, as we have defined it earlier, one can only trust the Bible to be true – and thus a guide for true spirituality – if in fact it is entirely accurate according to modern understandings. That is to say that if one can find even one example in the Bible that does not square with truth confirmed from other sources, then all is lost and the Bible is deemed useless as a means of hearing from God.

In his book, The Battle for the Bible (1976), Harold Lindsell made a final heroic effort to defend the inerrancy and infallibility of the Bible. “The authority of the Bible for man is viable only if the Bible itself is true. Destroy the trustworthiness of the Bible, and its authority goes with it. Accept its truthfulness and authority becomes normative…Infallibility and authority stand or fall together” (39). Setting things up with such stark contrasts indeed puts the Bible on thin ice.

Nevertheless, Lindsell goes to great lengths to show that the Bible is true down to the minutest detail (166). He solves the mathematical problem discovered in 2 Chronicles 4:2 in which it is stated that the molten sea in front of the temple is ten cubits in diameter and has a circumference of thirty cubits. This could be a deal-breaker because this is mathematically impossible. (The circumference of a circle is always pi x D, no matter what the Bible says. But 3.14159 x ten cubits is more than 30 cubits.) He solves this problem by suggesting the diameter of the sea must have been measured to the outside of the rim while the circumference was measured on the inside of the four inch rim. Then it works! So the Bible is true after all! Had he not figured out this “problem” apparently he would have lost all faith in the Bible. In my mind this kind of thinking leaves us in a precarious situation with respect to the Bible because not all “problem texts” are so easily resolved.

From my perspective, I need a Bible that is not hanging on such a thin thread. Diversity and inaccuracies simply remind me that I am reading a record of God interacting with people in various times of history, and as Peter Enns likes to say, God’s children got to tell the story. I am finding that expending too much energy trying to defend the accuracy of the Bible as we understand accuracy today does little to assist me on my quest for a deeper spirituality. Suppose I could eventually “prove” that everything written in the Bible is historically and scientifically true, how much closer would I be to discovering a deep and vibrant spirituality?

That brings me to a truth we all know but are often unwilling to apply when reading the Bible, and that is the power of stories, myths and parables to convey deep spiritual meaning. We have no problem understanding this when Jesus tells parables. No one argues that these parables are meaningless because they are not literally true. Telling parables was Jesus’ favorite way of speaking about all that pertains to the kingdom of God. In fact, at one point Matthew even suggests that Jesus “…did not say anything to them without using a parable” (Mathew 13:34).

I have found that when I can let go of the need to “prove” that all that is written in the Bible is literally “true” I begin to see horizons of meaning in the various texts I had not seen before. I begin to see parallels and life lessons in them – whether the stories are literally true or not – that draw me forward into the embrace of a God whose very existence we can’t prove literally and scientifically either.

Stories, myths and parables lend themselves to finding meaning and enlightenment in many nuanced ways in varied times and settings. Often they communicate better than direct narrative, especially when it is recognized that the direct biblical narratives were initially addressed to people living in very different times and situations than our own. And, furthermore, stories, myths and parables free us from the futile attempts of harmonization of varying narrative texts.

In his classic missiological book, Pilgrimage in Mission (1983), Donald Jacobs illustrates how throughout history the gospel has been flexible enough to adapt itself to every situation and culture. In Jerusalem the gospel was viewed as freedom from the law. In Ephesus it was victory over the powers. In Athens the gospel declared that God was the first cause in Jesus Christ. In the Middle Ages the gospel was heard as release from the fear of death. In the Reformation it was the overcoming of guilt through grace. In East Africa, where Jacobs worked as a missionary, the gospel meant freedom from the fear of evil spirits. “And so it goes. Jesus proves time and time again that he specializes in meeting people just where he finds them and he bows his shoulders to take on their problems…There is no end to the variety of needs Jesus Christ meets. The list could go on and on. But the weight of the argument is clear; Jesus Christ is well able to meet everyone’s needs everywhere at any time” (48).

I know that my musings about how the Bible can help me grow toward a deeper spirituality are not done. But for now I think that I have come to a preliminary understanding of how the Bible works to help us along the way. It is not a perfect book that can be proven to be inerrant in every respect. But it is a library filled with many genres of literature – including stories, myths and parables – that connect with me in the world in which I now live. The Bible is not the God I worship, but the document that points me in the direction of direct encounter with the living God.