Want to understand the Bible? Ride a chariot.

We all read the Bible a little bit differently than our neighbor. We all have our a DNA, a set of experiences and a set of lenses that shape what we see and how we see it. Even with all these unique voices and people, all the conversations I have ever had about the Bible still root back to ancient Greek and even ancient Jewish thought.

We can read the Bible as:

Literal - what the text says is all that it says, there is no underlying meaning. (In poster form)

Allegorical/Typological - connecting the Hebrew testament and the Christian testament. In Christian circles, the most common example is connecting prophecies of one testament with the message and life of Jesus. 

Classic moral and literalist conflict.

Moral - what we are supposed to do in light of this story. Traditional children's sermons or lessons for children are moral heavy, but the moral level is not limited to children but is also very prominent in the UMC. 

Anagogical - the text is dealing with the ultimate end of things. It is looking at the text in the long view of time. Seeing trends and overall patterns that might give a sense of how the arc of history is bent. 

The great divides in how Christians read and understand the Bible, for as far as I have see, come back to these layers of meaning. The literalists may conflict with the moralists who conflict with the allegorical people who may disagree with the anagogical readers. In our efforts to argue our views, we often overlook the key to reading the Bible: Humility.  

So I submit to us once again a metaphor that comes to us through the ages. Think of reading the bible like riding in a Quadriga. In Rome a chariot race was a chariot pulled with four horses. Each horse was needed to make it all the way around the course and each horse pulled their share of the weight. Sometimes it was the case that some horses were running faster and pulling more weight during the race, but that does not make the other horses less important. 

When we read the Bible, we ride in a chariot of humility that is pulled with the four horses of interpretation. 

Are we unknowingly offending everyone we meet?

There is a socially predictable pattern that takes place when meeting someone for the first time. You know the script:

"Hello. My name is (insert your name). What is your name?"

"Nice to meet you. What do you do for a living?" 

"Me? I am a (insert job title here)." 

The reason this social script is acceptable is not because it "flows" but because it places the values of the culture front and center - Who you are and what you do are one in the same thing. This may be part of the reason why we quickly forget the names of the people we just met (who they are) but we will remember where they are employed (what they do). 

Our culture emphasises what we do, what we contribute, what we produce, what we make over who we are. We would much rather be a "work-a-holic" than be labeled as a "free-rider". Doing nothing is acceptable on vacation, for a day or two, and the vacation better be short.

When we meet people and quickly ask them what they do, we are perpetuating the value of "work" over "being". Ask someone who is unemployed what they do and many times there is a sense of embarrassment. Many stay at home parents also become uncomfortable responding to this question.

Doing work is not a bad thing, it does not however define who we are. We are first and foremost a beloved child of God, created with all the love and joy and hope and dreams of anyone else ever born. We are beautifully complex, we are full of mystery and wonder and each one of us embodies a story that is ever developing. We have a past and a present, we have a future. We are more than what we do. 

So, the next time you meet someone, I suggest that we begin to impose another set of questions and by extension another set of values. Perhaps questions like:

How do you spend your time?

What brings you joy?

Do you have any hobbies? 

What really interests you? 

What is the most beautiful thing you have seen?

Is religion too focused on solving problems?

In many of the discussions of the nature of the church that I find myself in, there is a stream that views church like a non-profit that has a specific problem to solve. This is noble and a worthy understanding of the nature of the church. The Universal Church may have as much resources and people as any other global organization and we can use these resources to solve some very real problems. 

However, when we look at the world and see only problems then respond to these problems by finding solutions we overlook something about the world:

Not everything is a problem to be solved. Many things are paradoxes to be managed. 

Christianity is a religion built on paradox - last will be first, first will be last; faith as a mustard seed can move mountains, die in order to live, leaders serve, obedience leads to freedom, etc.

Paradox is the mother tongue of the faith, problem solving is our second language.