This will be my last blog for awhile. I have another project that I want to concentrate on, a self-imposed deadline of December 31. So I need to paddle my boat down a different stream for awhile. But I’ll leave you with a few more thoughts.
It’s nearly impossible to read the Bible without imposing on it our Western 21st century way of thinking. Looking through Lazarus’ eyes has helped me approach the scriptures asking how ancient, first-century Jews, highly influenced by Greek and Roman thought, perceived the person of Jesus, what He taught, and what He did. I think it’s helpful to read the entire New Testament thinking about who its immediate readers/listeners were. They were the ones to whom the writers were intent on communicating. Of course, we are not able to get into their mindset completely, but the effort opens our own understanding so that perhaps we will be less inclined to proclaim that we have total understanding of every scripture.
Of course, Truth is timeless, so if the Bible proclaims Truth, which I believe it does, then anyone of any century should be able to find Truth there. The key is: Truth is Who, not what. Abraham had no Bible, but he knew Truth. Ditto for Isaac, Jacob, Joseph. Even today, if all Bibles disappeared, Truth would not disappear. So as we read the Bible, we see God, who is Truth, glorifying Himself, showing Who He is and what He does – or, in the expanded definition of glory: Who He is and what He does in all His life-giving love. For in essence, Who is God? What is His character, His reputation, His name? “I Am,” said God (Exodus 3:14). He is. He exists. He is Life. Love. Grace. Mercy. As we read the life of Jesus – Emmanuel, “God with us” – this is what God shows us. Over and over again.
True, God gave His ancient followers laws through Moses. But while those laws could govern a nation and direct actions in a way that showed respect to others and to God, they could not control hearts and minds. Jesus came raising the bar, pointing out, “It’s your heart. It’s your heart. It’s your heart.”
I think the apostle Paul wrestled with this until he at last understood. After Jesus startled him on the road to Damascus, Paul told no one about it (Galatians 1:16-2:1). Instead, he went into Arabia for several years, during which time he obviously turned His law-training inside out and upside down trying to figure out what he believed. One of his questions may have been: What good is the law, if Jesus trumped it with grace and mercy? What good is the law, the Jewish nation’s center of existence, if God accepts Gentiles simply on the basis of their belief? And somewhere, during that time, Paul got it. “The law,” he said, “was a pedagogue.” A pedagogue was a slave who escorted children to school. The word can also mean teacher, trainer, or schoolmaster. “A pedagogue meant to bring us to Christ,” says Paul.
Law was never meant to reign supreme. Law, in fact, showed itself to be inadequate. Law became bondage. The principles of Law were meant to bring life. But they brought accusation and condemnation, because no one could successfully live up to the standard. The eye-for-eye system (which even now is the world’s modus operandi) emerges in the fabric of humanity in many forms from pride (I live an exemplary life) to despair (why can’t I ever do anything right?), from pity to smug disdain, from finger-wagging and accusation to violent vengeance. But in whatever way it works itself out, it always holds people up to scrutiny, measures them evaluates and assesses them. And eventually condemns them. Law could not permeate hearts and minds, nor could it forgive. So, Paul says, “The law of the Spirit of life in Christ has set me free from the law of sin and death.” What is the law of the Spirit of life in Christ? Love. “A new command I give you,” said Jesus. The new command? “That you love one another as I loved you” (John 13:34).
So I suggest that we not only read the Bible with an awareness of the ancient culture in which these books were written, but that we also use love as our method of interpretation (our “hermeneutic” if you want the scholarly word). As we ask what the writers meant, what God intended, what Jesus was saying or doing, we would do well to also ask how God expressed His love on those occasions. Ask what the particular scripture means when viewed through the lens of grace and mercy. If there is a choice in how to interpret something (and there’s always a choice), ask which choice glorifies God. Which choice shows His beauty, His grace, His mercy? Which shows Who He is in all His life-giving love?
So I leave you for awhile with those few thoughts. When I start blogging again, I’ll let you know on my website. Thanks again for joining me on the journey. I hope you have a great autumn and wonderful holidays.
And keep thinking!
Karyn
© Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.