Category Archives: Hermeneutics

Articles concerning particular interpretations and issues pertaining to the Bible.

by

3 Biblical Texts That Mean the Opposite of What You Think

“The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose…”

This is a line from Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, but the prevalence of its quotation these days, especially from Christians, has made me wonder if a lot of people wrongly assume it to be a biblical proverb, right up there with “God helps those who help themselves,” and “Honk if you love Jesus.”

The line is often used as a warning, to watch out for people who would twist Scripture to prove their own un-biblical beliefs. There are right-wing Christians who will toss it out like a caution flag amidst the liberal “war on faith,” while others will cite Shakespeare’s line as a rebuttal to those whose favorite past-time is biblical proof-texting.

Funny thing, though, about this oh-so-wise aphorism is that when placed back in its original context, it’s purpose changes dramatically. When Antonio, the so-named “merchant of Venice,” tells his friend and client, Bassanio, that “The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose,” (referring to Shylock’s biblical allusion of money-lending), he is not speaking out of wisdom, but bigotry. Antonio is an anti-Semite who bears no trust for Shylock, the Jewish moneylender, and also has no qualms about directly labeling the guy “the devil” in his presence.

My point is, just like lines from Shakespeare, a lot of folks may also routinely cite Scripture for their purposes, and not all of them are devils or even proof-texters. However, it turns out many of us have been misinformed regarding the true meaning of certain “well-known” passages.

Such as…

#3 – Sodom is Destroyed Not for Sexual Impurity but Social Impropriety (Genesis 19)

What You Thought It Was About

Judgment on a society involved in rampant homosexual activity.

In the story, Abraham’s nephew, Lot, welcomes the sudden arrival of two angelic visitors to Sodom. Unlike our modern cinematic interpretations of angels, it’s likely these two visitors are not pale-faced, moussed-hair Scandinavians wearing trench coats. Rather, Lot greets them as he would visiting lords or foreign royalty. He invites them to stay in his home, but the angels tell him they plan to spend the night in the town square.

Perhaps they were only one eligible stay away from moving from Platinum to Diamond members.

Perhaps they were only one eligible stay away from becoming Diamond members.

Lot “urges them strongly” to reconsider (there’s no evidence the Hyatt in Sodom was top-of-the-line) and they do. Later that night, all the men of the town (including young boys) show up at Lot’s door and demand he give up his two visitors, “so that we may know them.”  The basic interpretation of these words is that the men wanted to rape the angels. (The statement in Hebrew is “Yatsa yada yada,” which puts that Seinfeld episode in a whole new light.) When Lot refuses their request – to the point of offering his daughters and even himself instead – the men riot and threaten to break down his door. The angels then reveal to Lot the real reason for their visit: they were sent to destroy the city. Before initiating the divine smackdown, however, they kindly usher Lot and his family out the back.

Presumably because even when he suffered from amnesia, Loki was always a quick-thinker and incredibly cool under pressure.

Presumably because even after he began suffering from amnesia, Loki remained incredibly clever and cool under pressure.

What It’s Actually About

Bad hospitality.

Just like with Shakespeare, the Achilles heel of biblical proof-texting is a not-so-little thing called context. In this case, the preceding story in Genesis helps shed some light by way of contrast, as do the statements the supposedly rape-focused men say about Lot also.

In the story that immediately precedes this one, Lot’s uncle Abraham extends an incredibly gracious and humble welcome to three angelic visitors (the identities of which are commonly interpreted as God himself and the two angels of the Sodom account). After having a generous feast prepared for them, Abraham then journeys on with them for some distance after they stay in his home (18:1-16). The guy is such a bend-over-backwards brown-noser, you’d think he was working for tips.

Abraham in his younger days.

Abraham in his younger days.

Why is this significant?

Well, now consider the entirety of the Sodom account itself. Lot proves he’s learned how to be a good host from his uncle, and he also urges the angels “strongly” not to stay in town. It almost seems like Lot knows they won’t receive a warm welcome from anyone else – that gladly rolling out the welcome mat is not how Sodom does things. Which is tragic, because hospitality was considered to be, culturally speaking, very important. It was the litmus test for what made you a good and honorable person, or a good and honorable community. In this day and age, so much of your quality as a human being was tied to your capacity for generosity and benevolence. Welcome the stranger and the traveler, and you would find blessing from God. Reject them, or, worse yet, take advantage of them, and you were persona non grata.

David, Ahimelech and the holy bread  in 1st Samuel 21. Mary, the wedding hosts and the lack of wine in John 2. Jesus’ story about the man who bothers his neighbor for bread in the middle of the night in Luke 11. All of these hinge on the priority of being a good host, a deeply ingrained social contract of hospitality. Were you to neglect or break this contract, your reputation would be forever blackened and would lead to the inevitable suffering that comes from a reputation as a social pariah.

Unless, that is, you lived in a town full of pariahs.

Consider the way the men of Sodom react against Lot after he refuses them access to his visitors:

“And they said, ‘This fellow came here as an alien, and he would play the judge! Now we will deal worse with you than with them.’” (19:9)

You can either choose to believe that all these men just suddenly became alarmingly rape-y all at the same time (and chose to perform history’s largest gang-rape as a way to satisfy those urges), or you can believe that the attempted rape, while shocking, was a means to an end; in this case, domination by subjugation and degradation. Raping Lot’s visitors would have been both a power play and a humiliating insult, and it would have quickly established that even the most important visitors are nothing special in the eyes of the Sodomites.

When Mad Dog Tannen didn’t like Marty McFly’s look in Back to the Future III, he pulled out his six-shooter and fired at the kid’s feet, which is, of course, one of the Wild West’s go-to moves for putting strangers in their place. Let’s just say the men of Sodom had even less patience for foreigners and much crueler means of intimidation.

It’s one thing when a city is filled with people who have no sexual boundaries. It’s quite another thing when they’ve lost all trace of kindness and amity. Is it any wonder Sodom and its sister city ended up two smoldering piles of sulfurous rubble?

A far better American version of Sodom than San Francisco could ever be.

A far better American version of Sodom than San Francisco could ever be.

#2 – Jeremiah 29:11 is Less Concerned with Hopes and Dreams and More Concerned with Sitting Down and Shutting Up

What You Thought It Was About

Reach for the stars, because God’s got a personal success story written just for you.

If I had a dime for every time I’ve seen this verse printed on graduation cards, imprinted on paperweights, and scrawled in the top corner of Oh the Places You’ll Go!, I wouldn’t necessarily be a rich man, but I’d have way more dimes than even Kramer had in that episode when he tried to cook his pants.

That's two allusions to Seinfeld so far. I think I'll go for the hat trick.

That’s two allusions to Seinfeld so far. I think I’ll go for the hat trick.

It seems like such a wonderfully personalized verse right there in the middle of all that tedious, long-winded Old Testament prophecy. It’s as if God suddenly stops all his complaining about the Kingdom of Judah long enough to throw a hopeful bone out to us modern readers. For a lot of Christians, Jeremiah 29:11 is the John 3:16 of the Old Testament and certainly the most quotable line from any of the Prophets, unless you count that “mount up with wings like eagles” line from Isaiah, but that’s usually reserved for the backs of T-shirts of Christian high school track teams.

The point is, for a brief moment in Jeremiah’s heady prophetic discourse, I’m reminded that God has a special plan of success all ready for me, and all I’ve got to do is… um, well, whatever “seek me with all your heart” means. Pray, I guess. And read my Bible and, you know, keep doing my “quiet time” and stuff . The verse really isn’t clear on that part.

What It’s Actually About

The divine rescue you think is coming isn’t, so stop complaining and get used to a less-than-perfect life.

Once again, the popular interpretation burns in the light of context. It turns out that Jeremiah 29:11 is not as easy to extract from the larger passage than we would like, which is a bummer since that one verse is so darn marketable. The historical background underscoring this passage in Jeremiah reminds us that the people of Judah have recently experienced a tragic defeat at the hands of the formidable Babylonian empire; as a result, they have been exiled from Jerusalem and forced to live in Babylon, the homeland of their captors. They are strangers in a strange land.

"Hey, look on the bright side, guys. What if you'd been exiled to Sodom? You remember what those guys used to do to foreigners..."

“Hey, look on the bright side, guys. What if you’d been exiled to Sodom? You remember what those guys used to do to foreigners…”

Into these dark days, Jeremiah’s prophecy comes across not glass-half-full encouragement, but tough-love advice.

Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” (29:4-7)

Did you get that? The instruction for the people of Judah, caught up in the darkest period of their history and forced to toil and tarry in a land not their own is … to deal with it. To accept it. To make the best of a bad situation. And to not expect a rescue anytime soon, no matter if some other prophets claimed salvation was imminent (29:8-9). So go ahead and settle in for the long haul, because things ain’t changing until long after you’re dead.

That’s right. That plan for a hope and a future, while being directly concerned with an entire race of people (as opposed to each individual high school graduate at a baccalaureate service), was actually about a future generation that would see the Babylonian empire fall to the great King Cyrus of Persia, a messianic-like figure who would later decree that all exiled people were allowed to return to their homeland.

So, yeah, it’s a nice verse, but unless you’re willing to concede that God’s perfect plan for your life might be seventy years in coming, I’d stop using it as a testament to God’s interest in earthly successes.

"Good luck with the liberal arts degree, young man. Babylon's unemployment rate is currently 34%."

“Good luck with the liberal arts degree, young man. Babylon’s unemployment rate is currently 34%.”

#1 – The Passage That Allegedly Elevates Men as Household Leaders Actually Describes Them as Household Slaves

What You Thought It Was About

God has ordained males as the unequivocal head of the household, and wives must dutifully submit.

Toward the end of Paul’s letter to the Church in Ephesus, he spends some time giving behavioral advice regarding specific social and familial systems in that city. Now, when we males were still little boys, we were more interested in reading about that whole armor of God metaphor that comes after these verses. However, as we matured, entered college and began attending Sunday School classes and small groups geared toward young singles, we encountered a lot of marriage-centered curriculum that was focused on the family stuff rather than the helmet of truth, the sword of salvation and the crossbow of congeniality (that last one may be apocryphal). Specifically, what we learned is that according to Ephesians and a few other sprinkled passages attributed to the Apostle Paul, when it comes to establishing a Christian marriage, men are the boss and, well, you ladies just gotta deal with that.

Still, I'd take this guy over Mark Driscoll or Matt Chandler any day.

I’d take this guy over Mark Driscoll or Matt Chandler any day.

It seems pretty straightforward, doesn’t it?

Wives, be subject to your husbands as you are to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife just as Christ is the head of the church, the body of which he is the Savior. Just as the church is subject to Christ, so also wives ought to be, in everything, to their husbands. (5:22-24)

There you have it. For most preachers espousing what is known as a complementarian view of marriage, it doesn’t get any clearer than that. Men are compared to Jesus, and women are, well, something between a gaggle of believers and an individual in need of a head.

And once you find it, ladies, make sure you keep it covered. Them's the rules.

And once you find it, ladies, make sure you keep it covered. Them’s the rules.

What It’s Actually About

Full-fledged service to one another.

Context, context, context. Even if you believe complementarianism to be the correct way to structure the family unit, looking before and behind these three verses reveals there is something much bigger being described here. The Apostle Paul seems less concerned with mandating men to be the masters of their domains…

He shoots, he scores!

He shoots, he scores!

and more concerned with encouraging a lifestyle of servanthood among the entire Ephesian congregation. Though a lot of modern Bible translations slap a big chunk of space and a subtitle in between verses 21 and 22, take a look at how Paul opens this whole “be subject” part of his letter:

Be subject to one another out of reverence for Christ. (5:21)

One another. Be subject to one another! Now, consider the way he describes the character of Jesus Christ as he extends the metaphor in verse 25:

Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her… (emphasis mine)

And in verse 28,

In the same way, husbands should love their wives as they do their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.

There is something much more sacrificial being insinuated in this passage, especially since it starts not merely with instructing females to “submit” to males, but for all the people to “submit” to one another. The Greek word is hypotasso, and it means, among other synonyms, “to subordinate, obey, yield to advice.” Paul is not focused on husbands and wives so much as shedding new light on the relationship between Jesus and the Church. He has taken the traditional patriarchal structure of a family and applied it - with a caveat of full-fledged servanthood by both parties – to the Savior and those who would believe in him. And in case you missed it, he even says in verse 32 that this is his real point.

So, yes, guys, according to Paul you are the head of the household. Congratulations! However, the next time you think this means you get to call all the shots, set the dinner times, control the calendar, schedule sex, and leave all those annoying “inside chores” for that obedient bride of yours, think again. If the salvation you claim is to have any genuine influence in your home, you’ll find yourself relinquishing a lot more of your attention, time and energy than that which you keep for yourself.

But, hey, don’t take my word for it. President Bartlett feels the same:

by

The Gospel According to Intolerance

This post dabbles in controversy, and that can lead to defensiveness and trench-digging. Best to kick things off with a lighthearted illustration:

How Intolerant Christians See Themselves.

How Intolerant Christians See Themselves.

How Other People See Intolerant Christians.

How Other People See Intolerant Christians.

Here’s the thing. It can be tricky to determine what it means to be a Christian. What is the point – the essential, defining characteristic? What is the crux of the Christian life?…

… Pun most definitely intended.

The If/Then Statement at the Heart of Christianity (that few people heed)

From everything I have read, in the Bible and outside of it, it seems the cross (the English translation of the Latin, crux) is the crux of the issue. And the thing about the Gospels – those four hagiographic stories that describe and methodically theologize the life, death and subsequent resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth – is that they attribute a whole lot more meaning to the cross beyond it being merely an instrument for execution upon which Roman centurions impaled a young, upstart rabbi at the start of the first century.

It turns out, the cross is less of an instrument and more of a lifestyle.

Three of the four Gospels quote Jesus saying, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” See for yourself  in Matthew 16, Mark 8 and Luke 9; the latter  even adds the word “daily,” a temporal qualifier that reminds followers of Jesus that this selfless and sacrificial lifestyle should not be seen as a one-time commitment but a perpetual choice.

Yet even as we turn to these particular statements, we’re aware that we hold in our hands a very large book. It’s got some weight, the print is small and the text is organized into two columns per page. For crying out loud, it’s big enough to make Melville’s Moby Dick, Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, or Stephen King’s The Stand feel no longer than a limerick. It’s hard not to want to add a bunch of other laws and statements and sayings and theological expositions to answer the question, “What does it mean to be a Christian?”

And, yes, I am aware that I just lumped a book by a popular horror writer about an end-of-days battle in the wake of a superflu outbreak together with what is arguably the greatest novel of American Romanticism and the guy Graham Greene once called the greatest novelist of the 20th century. Deal with it.

And, yes, I am aware that I just lumped a book by a popular horror writer about an end-of-days battle in the wake of a Superflu outbreak together with what is arguably the greatest novel of American Romanticism and the guy Graham Greene once called the greatest novelist of the 20th century. Deal with it.

So let’s break down what Jesus said a bit more, shall we? Let’s be pragmatic about this. The first thing one might notice about his statement is that it is structured as an if/then declaration.

If a person is seeking practical answers, if/then statements are the most helpful because they set up a very clear, very simple cause-and-effect. (Or, perhaps in this case, the better phrase would be a call-and-response.) Jesus acknowledges a person’s desire to become one of his followers and then supplies the conditions by which this desire becomes reality. You want to be my follower? he (essentially) asks. Here’s what you do: deny yourself, take up your cross (daily), and follow me. He ends with the same word with which he starts – “follow.”

If/then statements are helpful to modern readers, and they weren’t foreign to the people of Jesus’ day either. Even a cursory reading of Exodus, Leviticus, Deuteronomy or the majority of the Old Testament Prophets reveal that God’s covenant with his chosen people – the Israelites – was structured by an if/then understanding. As one example of many, take Deuteronomy 28:1:

“If you fully obey the Lord your God and carefully follow all his commands I give you today, the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations on earth.”

Now, before we start reducing in our minds God’s commands or Jesus’ call to a kind of business deal or contractual obligation, we need to remember the fundamental difference between the two. A business deal or contract is an agreement by two parties to meet one another’s needs.

When God shakes hands, do you think He goes up-and-down like a jumprope or back-and-forth like He's sawing wood?

When God shakes hands, do you think He goes up-and-down like a jumprope or back-and-forth like He’s sawing wood?

The if/then statement of Jesus does not describe a co-dependent relationship. We do our part not to meet Jesus’ needs, but rather to transform our own life experience. If we reject the conditions of the call, the world goes on a-spinnin’ and, according to a bunch of other statements scattered across those faux-gilded pages of this massive book, Jesus goes on a-lovin’ us anyway.

Reveling in Persecution

So, back to the point. In this day and age, there are a lot of people who view Christians as intolerant and judgmental. We’re believed to be superstitious, regressive and close-minded. We’re seen as morality police. We’re called hypocrites (a word that originally meant “actors” but has come to mean insincere and deceitful). And despite such negative press, there are a lot of Christians who seem to almost revel in the name-calling.

I know some people who sneer at the criticism and, in a kind of high-minded self-righteousness, will point to passages about how “everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ will be persecuted” (2nd Tim. 3:12) and “if the world hates you, be aware that it hated me before it hated you” (John 15:18).

Sadly, this is often the most accurate representation of what comes to some Christians' minds when you bring up the concept of persecution.

Sadly, this is often the most accurate representation of what comes to some Christians’ minds when you bring up the concept of persecution.

Not only have some Christians chosen to interpret “persecution” as mere name-calling or political opposition, but we seem to think such criticism solidifies our affiliation with Jesus. The verses I hear quoted the most as a means of shoring up this identity-via-enmity is Matthew 5:11-12:

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

You see! It’s okay to be intolerant. It’s okay to pull back from fellowship and friendship with people who behave in ways contrary to what I believe. It’s okay to treat other people as the sinners that they are, and it’s certainly okay when they respond with denunciations and slanderous vitriol. They know not what they’re saying, and Jesus himself said that this is proof we are blessed.

"Good, Timmy! That's good picket sign-holding technique. Daddy's proud of you."

“Good, Timmy! That’s good picket sign-holding technique. Jesus is proud of you.”

Except, as far as I can tell, that’s not what Jesus was saying at all. The passage in Matthew makes it clear that the criticism directed at Jesus’ followers is false. However, there are a lot of so-called “Christians” who are hypocrites. They’re narrow-minded, inhospitable and just downright mean. They claim to be standing up for “truth,” but what is that truth anyway? When Jesus stood up for the truth, he had already been chained, spit upon and beaten, and there were still rods, whips and nails to come. And yet, he had not one unkind or judgmental word to utter against his criticizers and denouncers (John 18:33-38).

Oh, how much has changed since the first century! Strange, since his definitive if/then statement seems to describe imitation. Odd, considering that, at another time when he was asked what was the single greatest command, those same three Gospels record this reply:

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30, Matthew 22:37, Luke 10:27).

as well as his quick addition, “and you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” And when he was asked who exactly made the cut as “neighbor,” he went on to tell a story of your sworn enemy selflessly saving your life.

Holding On to Our Intolerance

So, what? Is it wrong to be intolerant? Is it wrong to speak out against behaviors that seem contrary to what is written in this heavy book with its faux-gilded pages? I mean, c’mon! Are we just supposed to roll over and play dead? Are we just supposed to stand idly by while marijuana is legalized, the government attempts to take away our guns, homosexuals receive the right to marry and vegans are treated as real people? Didn’t God call us to love what he loves and hate what he hates?

I mean, I know pigs would probably appreciate no longer being slaughtered, but I can't start my day without a few cuts of their delicious flesh.

I mean, I know pigs would probably appreciate no longer being slaughtered, but I can’t start my day without a few cuts of their delicious flesh.

In response, I can only point us back to what seems to be the essential call of a follower of Jesus: to relinquish any urge toward self-interest, to adopt a lifestyle of humble self-sacrifice, and to keep our hearts, souls, minds and strength focused on the guy who perfectly modeled this for us. Furthermore, nowhere within that if/then statement can I find justification for taking a stand against naughtiness over loving the naughty.

Some will no doubt argue the old “love the sinner, hate the sin” adage. Others might even claim that not pointing out a person’s sin is, ultimately, unloving, because it leaves the person to wallow in their wrongness. Maybe. But until you can make practical application of unconditional love a true priority in your life, I’d encourage you to zip your lips and step down off the soapbox. You may think you’ve been representing the truth, but I guarantee no one has been learning anything about self-denial and self-sacrifice from you. No one has gleaned from you an uninhibited, unbridled love of the heart, soul, mind and strength for God. And if they haven’t seen it, it’s because you haven’t really been living it.

Go home. Work on that part for a while. The essential part. The what it all means part. And when you’re ready to speak again, maybe we’ll be ready to listen.

by

The Devil You Know Beats the One You Don’t

I’m writing a story about the devil.

I’ve been working on it for quite some time – off and on for the past three years – but I’m about to finish it up. When I’ve completed it (and have gone through it with a fine-tooth editing comb that is both the writer’s thorn and tweezers), it will most likely be saved and stowed away in a folder on my hard drive. If I don’t mind using the ink, I might print it out and place it in an actual paper folder. Other than that, I don’t envision the story having much impact beyond my own experience of writing it. I know it will be too long to submit to a magazine or journal, too short to call a novel, too genre-like to appeal to a writing workshop, and too literary to interest publishers of Koontz or King. It’s about the Devil, after all, and the Devil is one hell of a character to get a handle on.

"Didn't know I was a fan of the denim, did you?"

Whatever you know – or think you know – about God and religion, you are at least familiar with the Devil. It’s hard not to be; the name itself has worked its way into our figures of speech. “That ol’ devil,” and “Speak of the devil,” and the ultimate hyperbole: “You’re the devil!” Centuries upon centuries of influence have effected idioms like “The devil made me do it,” “The devil is in the details,” “Give the devil his due,” and one of Granny’s greatest hits, “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

Within some of these familiar adages, and other sayings like them, there are kernels of truth. However, to get down to that truth takes a bit more digging than most people have the patience for. I mean, didn’t Freud say something to the effect that the devil is only a product of the psychic activity of man. Unless you’re really into literal interpretation of the Bible (and, to a lesser extent, the Koran and various Buddhist writings), it seems much more logical to understand the Devil as simply a personification of the evil that humans do. Then again, one of Dostoevsky’s characters remarked, “I think if the devil doesn’t exist, then man has created him. He has created him in his own image and likeness.” If there is no actual Devil, we have only ourselves to blame when it comes to the evil that humans do. That’s not the most encouraging of thoughts.

"Seriously, Dad! The guy was carrying a pitchfork. He may have been a farmer."

Near the end of my story, Ben, the main character and narrator, states, “It’s been said that the greatest trick the devil ever played is convincing the world he didn’t exist. I don’t think that’s true. We convinced ourselves. The devil had nothing to do with it.” Ben says this not because he’s lost faith in humanity, but because he’s terrified humanity has gotten the whole Devil question wrong for centuries.

Is Ben right? Have we? Has our understanding of the Devil – whether as an actual entity or simply a metaphor for human vice – been warped by years and years and years of misinterpretation and mythic fabrication?

I recently read a short story by Stephen King called “Fair Extension,” about a man with cancer who propitiously encounters a business man, going by the name of George Elvid (hello!) who is willing to offer a deal: he’ll take away the man’s cancer and guarantee good luck in the future, but in fairness he must transfer the disease and bad luck to someone else. When I taught American literature, I assigned Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “Young Goodman Brown,” a tale of the devil corrupting a Puritan village and inciting worship, or at least tricking the main character into thinking he was doing that. I would also teach Washington Irving’s “The Devil and Tom Walker,” an Americanized folk tale version of the popular Faustian legend. Having already lectured on literary archetypes – including the “devil figure” – we would then discuss exactly who the Devil is, and what powers he actually possesses.

Apparently, in the Marvel universe, he can teleport and pilot a submarine.

The first appearance of an actual devil figure – rather than a mere manifestation of human naughtiness – is found in the Old Testament of the Bible. When pointed in that direction, most people will immediately conjure the image of a talking snake, because everyone knows the serpent in the Garden of Eden was Satan; the talking-snake-is-the-devil thing also jives with the Devil as a liar and eternal enemy of God, a sly creature hell-bent on corrupting mankind and spawning villainy and immorality. Be that as it may, the first appearance in the scriptures of the actual character, the Satan or Ha-Satan in Hebrew, is in the Book of Job. Many people will remember this story as the famous wager between God and the Devil, though I always found it strange that Satan could just walk into heaven as if to attend a business meeting. What angelic bouncer wasn’t minding the gates that day? That’s cause for a reprimand, and grounds for termination when it happens again in the very next chapter.

Coming soon to a heavenly kingdom near you!

Unless Satan – or, literally, the Satan - had every right to be there. God certainly isn’t surprised to see him, or even bothered by his presence. If anything, he seems to address the Satan as if a report is due. It’s almost as if – All Aboard! Next stop: Heresy – Satan is simply doing his job (no pun intended). He doesn’t seem to be the archenemy of God - the Lex Luthor to Jesus’ Superman. He seems more like Heaven’s district attorney. Now, without the “Ha” article, “satan” shows up ten times in the Old Testament and is usually interpreted as “adversary” or “accuser.” In the Book of Job, however, the Satan is used (as well as in the third chapter of Zechariah). This is not merely a name, just like Jesus’s mailbox doesn’t read “Mr. Christ.” Rather, “Satan” is a title, a role. It’s the Devil’s job to act as the adversary, or the accuser, of human beings. And that’s just what he does in Job. Sure, he plays the part of the bad cop, but remove all the preconceived ideas about the Devil and what you have is an angelic being doing the very job he’s called upon to do.

Sounds like a pretty crummy job. Probably just above working in the lost luggage office for Air France.

Oh, snap!

What we know of the Devil as a malevolent being committed to human apostasy and ultimate annihilation is a combination of New Testament revision and a hodge-podge of apocryphal books, medieval literature, a Rolling Stones song and, I don’t know, maybe that awful Arnold Schwarzenegger movie.

Am I saying the Devil is not evil? Am I intimating that he is not the enemy of God? No, I am not. I have the New Testament epistles that refer to his trickery and his appetite for our fallenness. And I have the Gospels, where Satan (in Greek, Diabolos) goes after Jesus, trying to get him to forsake his humility and committment to God’s will. Then again, even this story – the most direct reference to the Devil in the entire New Testament – isn’t much different from the Satan’s business in the Old.

What I am saying is that if there is one thing the Devil is not, it’s to blame. He’s become a scapegoat for our own iniquity. Contrary to the sayings, the devil didn’t make you do anything. Contrary to the stories, the Devil is not interested in striking a deal with you in exchange for your soul or your allegiance. Contrary to Mick Jagger, the Devil doesn’t assassinate czars or presidents.

He can play a mean fiddle, though. Charlie Daniels was a prophet.

In the story I’m writing, the most frightening thing about the Devil is not how evil he is, but the fact that he knows how capable the human characters are of doing their own evil, of creating a world of depravity all by ourselves. In other words, we should fear the Devil not because he’s good at lying to us, but because he’s very good at convincing us of our own sinfulness. In his classic epistolary novel, The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis examines this very strategy. Imaginatively depicting Satan’s mission as a demon army complete with high ranks commanding underlings (thank you, Middle Ages), he expounds on the greatest trickery of all: Satan isn’t out to redirect our worship onto him, but simply to persuade us that God wants nothing to do with humankind. Why would he? Look at all the horror that we do on a daily basis, from flipping off people in traffic to sex-trafficking twelve-year-old girls. And to top it off, even God’s hands and feet and mouthpiece in the world, the Church, often places the blame not on humanity, but on that shrewd and slippery Satan – he’s behind it all.

According to this guy, he's somehow connected to Alzheimer's and earthquakes, too.

We don’t turn to Jesus because we want to escape the Devil. We turn to Jesus because he’s the only way to escape the reality that Satan might actually be proven right about us. Ultimately, the Devil doesn’t lie. We are unworthy. We do place our faith in our possessions rather than in Almighty God. We are living as if we’re the masters of our own fate. The district attorney has made his case, and we’re left stuttering in the witness stand, spitting excuses and appealing to some vague idea of being “good enough.”

No wonder Jesus refers to His Spirit as “the Advocate.” No wonder one of the most powerful metaphors of his sacrifice and death is to be the one who takes all our well-deserved blame upon himself and allows the death sentence to fall on him.

The moment we start believing the Devil isn’t real is the moment we stop seeing the cross of Jesus as indispensible. Is it too crazy to suggest that we should actually be thankful for the Satan? Whether you’re compelled to believe in an actual being or simply a personification of our own inability to measure up, there is a need to give the devil his due.

Now you can see why very few people would be interested in my story.

by

Syllabus

Wouldn’t it be great if life came with instructions, some kind of course map that outlined all the major events (and the corresponding dates) scheduled to take place? You could consult it whenever you needed to – confirm a coming test or trial, brush up on the rules, jog your memory on the expectations and the objectives. You would know exactly how much weight each occurrence or incident would have on the overall outcome of your life. There would even be a phone number or e-mail of who you should contact if you get lost or confused.

Something like this, but, you know, less boring:

Ahh, clarity!

Back in class today, standing up in front of my students while coping with jet-lag and its nefarious pal, the pounding headache, I quickly recognized how off-track you can feel when you don’t have a detailed, balanced syllabus to consult. In my new electives this semester, I have not had a chance to complete the corresponding syllabi; thus, any directions or instruction I offered seemed to float about the room like fog, clearly present but making everything hazy. No matter how free-spirited you are, when things get confusing, all you want is order and organization. Order helps you keep a steady pace – organization spares you stressful surprises.

Some people refer to the Bible by the acronym Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth – they feel this is a great way to summarize the content as well as the purpose of what they consider to be God’s Word. I’ve always found the insinuation dull, that it robs Scripture of its mystery and controversy and strangely compelling influence. Treating the Bible like it’s a syllabus for living on planet earth is like believing The Lord of the Rings is a how-to guide for crafting and decorating jewelry. Sure, you may be able to glean some tips and a significant amount of inspiration, but the extent of what you have missed could fill the Bay of Belfalas.

We need more than a mere syllabus to embrace this life. We need confidence in our own story, and we need to see how thousands of other stories long past can still mirror our own ambitions, fears, hopes and anxieties. We need friendly classmates who make good partners, and we need to be responsible with the resources of which we are given charge. We need to understand that the more intentionally we analyze and evaluate and probe for truth, the wiser we will become.

by

Chasing the Sermon

A good sermon is an elusive sermon. At least, this is what I’ve come to believe. I’ve never served as lead pastor in a church, so I suppose this statement may not apply to the majority of pastors out there. But I’ve stepped behind enough pulpits to know that the sermon (or “message,” for the hipper Christians out there … and, I guess,  ”homilies,” for the more traditional) is one that doesn’t come easily. If it does, I believe it runs the risk of being merely the product of the preacher’s own opinions and selfish understanding of faith.

It is a surreal thing to stand in front of people and deliver a sermon. Perhaps the congregation assembled before you is collectively faithful and therefore intrigued and inspired by your musings on the things of God. Or, maybe like the majority of churches in America today, the people in the pews are there because, well, they’re almost always there, usually in the same seat, and arguably the most important thing running through their minds is where they will be doing lunch not long (hopefully) after your final “Amen.” Either way, I believe the sermon is no less of a holy thing. I sometimes suspect it is a sacramental thing, too, because a good sermon is breathed into by God (like Adam, the disciples, Scripture, and you and me), and that makes it a window into His mind, and that means that those who dare to truly look through it – the preacher and the hearers alike – take part in an act of allegiance unto the mind and heart of God.

I used to begin my preparation of sermons with the always popular proof-texting method. This is where you think of an idea you want to communicate (normally one coming out of your own innocent selfishness), and then you hunt down a few verses that back up your idea, which usually means you must take these verses out of context to a degree. The majority of the sermon, then, is like an argument presented in court. You are seeking to convince the audience as if they were a jury gathered to determine the quality of your topic. In my opinion, this is the most popular method of sermon preparation. These days, you can even visit some mega-churches where the Sunday morning worship budget is so fat that pastors can show flashy videos and bring props of all shapes and sizes on stage to make the proof-texting even more extravagant. Then again, this is often a necessity – when your sanctuary is the size of a basketball stadium, you have to do something extraordinary just to hold people’s attention week after week.

Of course, proof-texters rarely lose control of their sermons, because they have learned how to quell the movement of the Spirit while preparing, and then they simply pray for the Spirit to move in what they have created on their limited own. Granted, the flip side to this coin are those pastors (and I’ve known a few) who do not prepare at all and expect the Spirit to simply guide them in their presentation when it comes time to step behind the proverbial pulpit. And yet, even if they are skilled in impromptu speaking, this is just another form a proof-texting, only there is no glancing over the particular texts beforehand. You just land on them like the spinner in a game of Twister.

These days I try to avoid proof-texting of either kind. This can be somewhat difficult, but I believe that when the sermon focus begins to feel elusive, then the preacher is on the right track. When you begin to second guess yourself, I think this is actually a good thing. It means that whatever original idea might have been rolling around in my mind doesn’t seem worthwhile enough to expound upon to the congregation, and that is one of the first steps in getting over selfishness. Not the only step, but one of them.

When we come down to it, it is no easy thing to preach the Word of God. Sure, there are many out there today who make it look easy, but I’m willing to bet half of them aren’t preaching the Word of God so much as they are preaching advertisements for a noble life. There’s nothing wrong with this – there’s nothing wrong with self-improvement at all – but accomplishing an exposition of the things of God is easier done than said. Most churches are full of lessons on how to live noble, moral lives. What exists beyond the noble and the moral – well, that’s harder to come by.

So how do you know when you’ve done it – preached the Word of God, that is? Or, at least, how do you know when you’re on the right track? What do I mean when I write that the sermon becomes elusive? Mainly, I mean that the words you are striving to put together, the exegesis of the text, the application of the lesson (if indeed there is an actual cut-and-dried lesson in there somewhere) becomes haunting. Something that lingers in front of you, seemingly just out of reach. It almost taunts you. Reminds you that, yes, yes, this is the Truth, but oh, how delicate and beautiful a Truth it is, and if you would indeed come after it, you must comprehensively deny yourself – along with all your alliterative sub-points and poetic quotes and perfectly pitched punchlines – and take the heavy responsibility of speaking this Truth once again into being in the hearts and minds of your hearers.

Sure, in the end, you may indeed have three memorable talking points, a couple of winsome illustrations, and perhaps even a couple of chuckle bombs perfectly calibrated. After all, the beauty of preaching is that this elusive Truth – the Truth of the Power of God – is not meant to be preached devoid of personality. He has, after all, chosen you, a human with a hankering for skillful turns of phrases and well-rehearsed changes in voice tambour, to be the bearer of His message. But that’s the simple glory of it. There is no such thing as “dumbing down” in God’s mind. The Apostle Paul reminds us that He chooses “the foolish things” of the world to shame the wise.

He chooses you. He chooses me. So, when it comes to preparing a sermon, take joy in the journey. Take thrill in the chase.

This Sunday, I have been asked to preach … and so, the game’s afoot!