Questions

It’s Like, Literally…

If there was any question before, let me put it to rest: I despise the word literally. In most cases, it’s either used incorrectly or it’s unnecessary. But that’s not what I’m going to talk about here. Um, literally.

Nope, today it’s all about Biblical literalism. Now, I’m sure this is going to land me in hot water with more than a few people. But I’m laying it on the line. I suppose it’s on my mind because I had to teach a bunch of 5- and 6-year-olds a literal interpretation of Job.

While I take Job very seriously, I don’t take it as strictly factual information. It’s a great story, but there are a lot of problems with it. Allow me to list some of them:

-God makes a bet with Satan
-God gives Satan free rein in this guy’s life for the sole purpose of finding out whether he will stay faithful
-Job gets better than a fairytale ending

I don’t know about you, but I’m not fully at ease with the idea that the Creator of the Universe likes to play games with our souls. If indeed God loves us, that’s not much of a way to show it. Speaking only for myself here, I don’t do that to my kids. I have no reason to think that God treats us worse than we treat our own children, especially since Jesus says just the opposite. I’m inclined to trust Jesus on this one.

My next problem is the idea that bad things are just the work of the Devil. That’s quite a stretch. And again, that sounds like Cosmic Forces playing games with tiny little humans as pawns. That really doesn’t sound much like the God featured in the rest of the Bible, nor the one we encourage people to trust. We arrest humans who do that to their kids. Just sayin’.

Finally, that better-than-it-was ending is just kind of…crap. It reads like a tack-on, something someone threw in there so that we wouldn’t get all depressed reading about poor Job. It’s also pretty misleading. God lets Satan screw with us to prove a point, then makes it all better by replacing everything? Yeah. Right.

Now, that’s all based on a literal, historical reading of the text. It’s what one gets with the idea that Job was a real person and every event laid out in the book is factual exactly as it is written. In other words, it’s the belief that God did indeed make a bet with Satan over the soul of a human being. I think there are much better readings, which leave it as poetry, allegory, and a sort of morality play. When taken as a whole, rather than individual fact bites, it’s clear that there is a larger purpose to the story.

I always leave discussions on Biblical literalism feeling at least a small amount of rage under the surface. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard the words, “It’s literal unless it’s obvious it’s not or the text says it’s not.” Well, that sure clears things up. What one person believes to be “obvious” may not be to someone else. A good deal of that is left to interpretation. This is, of course, why some people take the Bible’s account of creation strictly at face value, and others see it as more poetic and nuanced.

This problem occurs in several well-known Bible stories: Adam and Eve, Noah, and Jonah, to name a few. I think that one reason people feel so attached to literalism is that there is this fear that if we can’t believe in the Ark, we won’t believe in Jesus. This is not at all true. But what happens is that there are incredible stretches of the imagination in order to plug the holes left by literal interpretation.

For example, Noah takes two of every animal (and seven pairs of some) on the Ark. Does that include polar bears, raccoons, and kangaroos, none of which are native to the Ancient Near East? If Noah included those exotic animals, how did they get there? How did they migrate their entire populations to the regions in which they now dwell? Did those species arise later? If so, then why is evolution false, or did God just magic them out of thin air? The phrase “doesn’t bear close inspection” does not apply here. Inquiring minds want to know: How does this all fit together? To say it isn’t important brushes aside very real problems that must be addressed if one insists on taking everything as historical fact.

If, on the other hand, we take those stories not as absolute truth that must be defended but as insights into the nature of our relationship with God, we can have a much more generous approach to the text. Instead of asking, “Well, what about…?” we can ask, “What does this mean?” We can lay aside petty concerns about fact versus fiction in favor of developing understanding of God’s character and ours. It doesn’t matter if the story happened just as the text suggests, because we’re concentrating on the key points—God wants us to trust and follow, even when it’s scary or strange, and that marvelous things happen when we do.

So getting back to Job, it seems as though a more responsible way to read the text is not to insist on literal interpretation, but to concentrate on meaning. Some good things to come out of the text:

-Just because we experience bad things, it doesn’t mean we displeased God
-We don’t understand everything God does, but we can trust that God cares for us
-Eventually, all things will be made right (even if not in this lifetime)

Now, those are lessons I can get behind.

Listening, Heart Wide Open

Faith and Spirituality, LGBTQ+, Outreach, Questions, Salvation, Sin

We need to hear people’s stories. Not just the ones we want to hear, the triumph-of-grace-over-sin, feel-good, happy-ending tales of a life turned to Christ. Not just the kind that make the people cheer in victory, that another soul has been rescued from the clutches of Satan. We need to hear the stories that make us squirm. The ones that cause us to lie awake nights, asking the deeper questions about sin, salvation, and grace.

Here are a couple of links to just such stories: Life Abundant, a guest post on Andrew Marin’s blog; and this one, the most recent post on Ryan Nix’s blog, Queer as Faith. (Nix’s posts are much less about being the “gay Christian dude” and more about drawing us back to the heart of the Father. Incredibly inspiring and often convicting, the posts are very well-written; it’s worth checking out some of the others as well.)

Often, we might say that we ought to get to know real-life LGBT people. But the subtle underlying message we hear or sometimes speak is, “So that they come to know Christ and give up their lifestyle of rampant sin.” The fault in that is two-fold. First, it’s incorrect to assume anything about someone’s faith (as seen in the links above). Second, it’s never a good idea to enter a friendship with an agenda.

Most of you know where my heart is. If we’ve talked, then chances are I know where yours is. No one is being asked to jump immediately on board the train and change their thinking, certainly not overnight. But we do need to hear what people different from ourselves have to say. It’s not a matter of listening with an open mind but an open heart. When we do this kind of open-hearted listening, we are offering ourselves to G-d to work through us and in us.

Who will you listen to today?

The Right Answer

Bible, Doctrine, Questions

Last night, sitting at the dinner table, my husband and I discovered that we both used to hate those stupid multiple choice questions on English Lit exams. You know the kind I’m talking about, the ones that asked things like, “What is the major theme of this book?” Then you have four or five options, at least three of which seem like they could apply.

The funny thing is, we disliked those questions for opposite reasons. My husband is a big-picture thinker. He doesn’t like to pin things down to just one way of looking at a situation or problem. In his opinion, trying to find one single theme in a story is pointless, since different people would come to equally valid conclusions. I hated those questions because I always thought that if there were a right answer, it ought to be obvious. I want clear, precise direction, no ambiguity allowed.

I suppose that’s why I always liked math and science, even though I’m significantly better at language and communication. Math has right answers. If you add two and two, you get four. It’s basic, simple, and numbers can be plugged into a formula. There is no room for lying. Even in exceptional cases, such as imaginary numbers, there is still a clear method for understanding how to work with them. Science isn’t quite as black-and-white, but it’s close. If we don’t actually know everything, there is at least the potential that everything is knowable. New discoveries are made all the time, replacing old notions. It’s comforting, somehow, to believe that somewhere out there, the Scientists are Finding Things Out.

Our discovery that our polar opposite personalities converge in this way came about while discussing (what else?) the Bible. I had mentioned that when my Sunday school students played Jeopardy! in class, I had a hard time with one of the questions. In theory, it should have been easy. The kids were answering Bible trivia for 5-10-year-olds. I know the Bible pretty well at this stage of my life. As expected, most of the questions were simple, factual information about what’s actually written in the text., such as which Disciple denied Jesus. The one that gave me trouble was, “What is the theme of Jonah?”

The answer my students gave, and which turned out to be correct, was “Listen to G-d.” I suppose that’s true enough, at least in some sense. I mean, who wants to get eaten by a fish? At the same time, at least three other themes occurred to me: It’s never too late to repent; sometimes life isn’t fair and things don’t turn out as we expect; and G-d, not we, is in charge of the whole repentance/forgiveness department. From other things people have written about Jonah, I gather that there are even more layers to the story than that.

As we played the game, I felt my annoyance level rising. It was like being back in high school English class. I never did well on those theme-related questions, because I invariably saw something different in the text from my teachers (and fellow students). This often left me embarrassed. I had the same sense of shame that my students could come up with a pat answer about Jonah, but I could not. (Not that any of the other adults were aware of my predicament, as I managed to keep my mouth shut.)

This isn’t unusual for me at church. I think there are multiple good answers, and sometimes none at all, to the question of themes within Scripture. Unfortunately, too few people are interested in exploring more than a single right answer. Sunday after Sunday, we’re drawn into the concrete world of “correct” interpretation. But how can we possibly make sense of it all when branches of Christianity, denominations, and even individual churches disagree on the right meaning of Scripture? How can we be certain that the important message of Jonah is that we must listen to G-d, when someone else says that it’s really a message of compassion for sinners? And if, as I suspect, both are equally valid, then what do we do with that–how does it change how we live?

It can be so easy to just sit in the pews every week, waiting for the pastor to give us the answers. I used to be like that. Not that it didn’t affect my life during the week; I’ve never been a Sunday morning Christian. But I used to believe that the pastor could supply the answers and I could then put them to work in my life. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found that kind of faith to be flat and dull. As much as I rebel against a big-picture, nebulous, abstract approach to the Bible, I know it makes more sense. I can let go of the shame in finding alternate meanings, embracing it with my whole heart. I can see the richness of the multiple themes in Jonah and rejoice that G-d has given us something so beautiful.

Where do you want to expand your views of the Bible?

Scale Theology

Doctrine, Questions, Salvation

I’ve been thinking about the idea of Scale Theology. That’s the snappy term occasionally used in my church (and probably others, I can’t imagine it’s unique) for a belief in salvation by good deeds. The essence is that when you die, if the good stuff you did outweighs the bad, you get a pass into Heaven. If not, well, you can imagine what happens. Obviously, any church which teaches salvation by grace through faith does not subscribe to Scale Theology.

Naturally, I agree that Scale Theology is useless nonsense. There are several reasons for this. First, is there anyone on the planet who would believe they hadn’t done enough good? And if there were, would it be true? Second, everyone’s idea of what constitutes “good” deeds is different. One person might think it means going to church, being nice to people, and respecting authority. Another might think it means being on the front lines of battle. Another might believe it’s all about how much money you donate. Third, ditto on the idea of “bad” deeds. We might all agree that, say, Hitler was one seriously bad man. But how about the kid who bullied you all through middle school? Is he as bad? You might think so, if you’re the seventh grader getting beat up. Finally, how much good one would have to do to outweigh the bad is also in question. Take that middle school bully. What would he need to do to make up for his childish actions?

Having established that I don’t in any way subscribe to Scale Theology, I do want to bring up one minor issue. Churches that emphasize salvation by grace through faith sometimes fail to acknowledge that we also need to do good things. It’s often framed in terms of “storing up our treasures in heaven” or that doing good deeds demonstrates that we are showing outward signs of an inward faith. Sometimes, the balance is tipped in favor of volunteering at church rather than giving our time and money outside the church. In any case, churches often go overboard in trying to make sure no one is confused about our salvation not being dependent on our actions. Churches that encourage, emphasize, and celebrate social justice may be sneered at, and are often perceived as promoting the dreaded Scale Theology.

The problem with that kind of open condemnation is that it’s unfounded. Social justice-oriented churches don’t necessarily buy into Scale Theology. It’s not that anyone believes that the power of salvation rests squarely on G-d’s shoulders. It’s that social justice Christians believe that we are called to, that we must, be obedient to Jesus. The difference is not in whether a person or church subscribes to Scale Theology. The difference is in why one thinks good deeds are important. We don’t do good deeds to buy our ticket into Heaven. We don’t do it to earn brownie points with the Lord. We don’t do it because it’s going to make someone proud of us, look good on a college application, sound important at a job interview, or make people like us better. We do it because Jesus expressly stated that we are to care for the needy. He said it plainly. He said it in parables. He said it repeatedly. The Apostles lived it. Paul repeated it. James nearly pounded it into the ground. Which part of that are we not getting?

Another flaw when talking about Scale Theology is the belief that anyone who isn’t a card-carrying Born Again is automatically in the Scale Theology camp. There’s no room for anyone to have natural compassion. Doing good is dismissed as a misguided attempt at purchasing the admission to the Pearly Gates. But what if it’s not? What if we simply can’t admit that it isn’t the mere act of putting faith in Christ which drives the human heart? There are people out there who, believing there is no god, think it’s our responsibility to care for one another. There are people who sincerely don’t want others to suffer and are brokenhearted over the terrible things that happen to people. Out of that compassion, they work to care for life on this planet in all its forms. I know these people exist; I’ve met them. Not one of them thinks that doing good in this world is the basis of getting into Heaven after death. (It’s especially important to note that many of these people don’t even believe there is a heaven, or anything else, after death. Therefore, Scale Theology is irrelevant.)

We need to stop worrying about whether focusing on doing good is sending the wrong message about salvation. We simply need to begin living as Jesus intended us to.

What If?

Morality, Questions

It’s so easy to believe that the invisible, unknown person is somewhere, doing things of which we disapprove. It isn’t hard to imagine them, wanting more than their fair share in life, wanting special privileges, hacking away at the moral fibers of our nation, destroying what we hold dear.

But what if they stopped being nameless and faceless? What if we knew them? What if we took the time to understand the other?

What if that person we want to hate, blame, judge, or distrust is closer than we think? Would we see that person differently? Would we be able to extend a hand in friendship, be fellow travelers in this life?

What would change if that person lived in your neighborhood? Would you smile and wave when you saw him outside mowing his lawn? Would you invite her in for a cup of tea?

What if that person worked in the grocery store? Would you avoid that checkout lane, or would you look at it as an opportunity to show love to the other?

What if that person were your child’s teacher? Would you be angry, ask for your child to be moved? Would you trust your child to that person’s care?

What if that person were a friend, someone letting you into part of his or her life, sharing secrets and pain? Would you listen then?

What if that person were your own flesh and blood? The same person you looked at across the dinner table when you were growing up? The same person with whom you fought over television shows and toys? What would that change for you?

What would it take for you, or for me, or for anyone to really hear each other?

Frustrating Conversations

Doctrine, End Times, Hell, Questions, Salvation, Science, Sin

In the last few months, I have had a number of conversations with other Christians that have left me shaking my head in disappointment. I suppose I always hope that people will actually consider the beliefs they hold dear, examining them to be certain that they understand why they hold those beliefs. Yet I am often left feeling somewhat deflated when I discover that most people just don’t think that deeply, even when they say something is very important to them.

The three most recent discussions I have found myself involved in are repeats of similar conversations I’ve had over the years and cover three of the main topics some Christians see as a kind of barometer of the faith. In other words, if you have the right opinion about those things, then you are clearly a “real” Christian. Inevitably, they go something like this:

Conversation A

Person: The world is going to Hell in a handbasket, society has become so immoral. We accept terrible things, like the “homosexual agenda,” abortion, and fat people.

Me: Um…this is the human condition. People do bad things. It’s not worse now, just different.

Person: We need to return to the values of the 1950s.

Me: You would like separate lunch counters?

Person: No, but you have to admit, it’s much worse today.

Me: Really? Well, what about things like slavery or the Crusades or the Nazis? There’s a lot of racism and genocide in history.

Person: Well, we still have all those things. But now we also have men who want to marry each other. And also fat people.

Me [realizing this person has a particular view of the world and is shaping his opinions to match]: Never mind.

Conversation B

Person: The Earth is really only about 10,000 years old.

Me: Scientific discoveries seem to indicate something different.

Person: Science doesn’t know everything.

Me: True. But how can we explain what science has discovered?

Person: God made the Earth LOOK much older than it is.

Me: Why? Why would God want to trick us like that?

Person: So that we would take the Bible on faith.

Me: Ok, how does that strengthen our faith?

Person: I don’t know, I guess God just wants us to believe Him instead of trusting our own observations.

Me: That doesn’t make sense. I feel more drawn to God knowing He made all these wonderful things, including dinosaurs. I think it’s really cool that our part of the world used to be a tropical sea!

Person: But God wants us to just trust that His Word, the Bible, is the only truth we need. He wants us to pick Him over science.

Me [realizing this person isn’t able to give a concrete reason]: Never mind.

Conversation C

Person: People who are [Catholic, Orthodox, non-Evangelical, emergent, social justice Christians, etc.] are not really saved.

Me: Why not?

Person: [gives various reasons, usually some variant of “they don’t believe in salvation by grace through faith alone”]

Me: Are you sure about what “they” believe?

Person: Yes, I grew up in that tradition. I know everything they ever believed and can recite it to you verbatim.

Me: So everyone from those traditions or beliefs is not actually a Christian.

Person: Well, no, I’m sure some of them have found their way to faith. But most of them just don’t understand their faith or what they’re supposed to believe.

Me: Not unlike most people within our tradition.

Person: I’m sure there are people in our tradition who don’t understand, but that isn’t most of us. It is most of them.

Me: Ok. Even if that’s true, are you certain that we’re right and they’re wrong?

Person: Yes, because the Bible says so.

Me: You know they say the same thing about us, right?

Person: Yes, but we are actually correct, unlike them.

Me [realizing this person has preconceived notions that can’t be addressed in this conversation]: Never mind.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

There you have it. I’ve been having similar conversations on and off for the last 20 years. It doesn’t offer me much hope.

It’s Like, Literally…

Listening, Heart Wide Open

The Right Answer

Scale Theology

What If?

Frustrating Conversations

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