Field Notes
Fr. Tony’s Letter to the
Trinitarians
October 2018
“Holy Scripture containeth all things necessary to salvation: so that whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be required by any man, that it should be believed as an article of the Faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to salvation. … [I]t is not lawful for the Church to ordain any thing that is contrary to God’s Word written, neither may it so expound one place of Scripture, that it be repugnant to another.” (The Articles of Religion, BCP pp. 868, 871.)
Most of us Episcopalians are
suspicious when we see a bumper sticker that proclaims, “God said it; I believe
it; That settles it,” or hear an evangelical preacher declaim, “the BIIIIII-BLE
says…” We want to ask, “And what ELSE
does the Bible say?” Anglicans since
the time of Henry VIII have argued that there is much truth that is not taught
in the Bible, that its truth lies in “what is necessary for salvation,” rather
than scientific or historical areas, and that many things even within that
volume are limited in their authority because other, more central, passages of
scripture teach if not in a repugnant direction, at least a contrary one.
You have to be struck by the great
variety of material that is found in what we call the Holy Bible. There are legal codes. There
is religious history and the retelling of legends (sometimes multiple
retellings of varying forms of the same story). There are chapters of
genealogical tables of kings long dead, as well tales as of what appear to be
legendary forerunners of humanity. In the Psalms, you find poems clearly meant
to be recited in rituals of the Jewish Temple. There are also personal laments
and prayers. The Bible includes stories—stories of noble people following God
at great sacrifice, but more often, of typical ordinary people whose behavior
falls far below even the minimal standards of “niceness” in today’s society.
There is even an erotic poem, albeit one that the compilers of the collection
later took to be religious allegory, the Song of Solomon.
The morality and faith expressed in differing parts of this hugely diverse collection of writings also varies widely. Frankly, we can on occasion be shocked at what we sometimes find there, even apart from the evil deeds narrated and clearly condemned by the narrator.
In the Old Testament, the holding of women and children as chattel to be used as one chooses is seen as normal and acceptable to some biblical writers. Genocide is portrayed as “holy” war required by God by another. Polygamy and concubinage by the forebears and great kings of Israel and Judah are seen in some texts as signs of prosperity and power—evidence of God’s favor. Other texts preach xenophobia and exclusion, if not outright hatred, of foreigners. The New Testament is not itself innocent here: some of its passages teach as a standard the subordination of women and slaves, and see both groups as chattels in part of a God-ordained order. Some of the four Gospels seem to seek to paper over Roman responsibility for the death of Jesus by blaming this example of the most Roman form of execution on the Jewish religious authorities; one even seems to apply this blame it to all subsequent Jews. None of these texts are examples of the Bible’s best values at work.
Even in the Psalter, the poetic collection we Christians tend to see as devotional and use in our morning and evening prayers, contains some pretty harsh stuff. Psalm 137 says, O Babylon, you devastator! Happy shall he be who pays you back with what you have done to us! Happy shall he be who takes your babies and dashes them against the rock!” (vv 8-9). And each time I hear the exquisite Psalm 23, the Lord is my shepherd, I am jolted by the mean-spiritedness of the line “you spread a banquet table before me—while my enemies have to stand there and watch it!” Maybe the Psalter is telling us it’s O.K. to have the full range of emotions: what matters is what we do (or more importantly, do not do) with such feelings.
But there are moments of bliss and ecstasy in this collection as well, and great moments of unswerving and unsparing moral clarity. The very fact that it is other biblical authors who condemn the values held by some of them is evidence of God’s work in the world, and in the production of this collection of ancient writings. Throughout the biblical record, there is trust in a God who acts and approaches his people at whatever pathetic level they may be. There is hope in ultimate intervention by this God to change what is wrong in the world, and make things right. The New Testament Gospels tell the story of what they see as God’s definitive act to do this: the life, death, and bodily reappearance of Jesus after his death. Jesus’ teachings in the Gospels routinely condemn fear and hatred of the foreign, legalism and the use of religion to oppress others, and tell again and again of a loving God who pours out his love and grace upon all, regardless of their condition or origin.
When we read the whole of this baggy, loose, and at times contradictory collection, it becomes clear that it impossible to say that each and every statement in scripture reflects God’s will for us.
Some sayings, passages, or teachings there, though perhaps originally intended to express what the author thought was God’s will, are within the context of the whole collection clearly preserved as bad examples, or reassurance that even God’s people can be seriously flawed.
Others, in contrast, show with great clarity what God’s intention is: the parables of Jesus, the profound hope of the second half of the book of Isaiah, the stories of grace, love, and faith—like Ruth, or Job—within the larger context of human tragedy and horror. The stories of scripture, and the great variety of emotions expressed in the poetry of the Bible, tell us that it is O.K. to be human, but not O.K. to refuse God’s call to be something better than we are. Sometimes the change is immediate, like Saint Paul on the road to Damascus, sometimes a gradual process, like the gradual historical effects of God’s interaction with his people over time in terms of their belief systems.
Martin Luther talked about the need for a “canon within the canon,” when it comes to interpreting the Bible and applying it to people in present circumstances. What he means by this is that we need a sense of what books and passages should be given priority in interpreting the whole so that we can sort out and make sense of such inharmonious, if not downright contradictory, doctrine and ethics that one finds in the Bible. Luther never would have argued this had he believed simply that all parts of the Bible were equally God’s word.
Scripture thus is not so much God’s thoughts written down, as they are the field notes of God’s people over the ages. They establish a dialogue with believers of all ages. It is in this sense of the Bible as a work of the believing community inspired and led by God, despite their weakness and occasional detours, that we, the believing community that produced and is also the product of the Bible, can affirm with the English reformers that the Holy Scriptures contain all things necessary for salvation.
The morality and faith expressed in differing parts of this hugely diverse collection of writings also varies widely. Frankly, we can on occasion be shocked at what we sometimes find there, even apart from the evil deeds narrated and clearly condemned by the narrator.
In the Old Testament, the holding of women and children as chattel to be used as one chooses is seen as normal and acceptable to some biblical writers. Genocide is portrayed as “holy” war required by God by another. Polygamy and concubinage by the forebears and great kings of Israel and Judah are seen in some texts as signs of prosperity and power—evidence of God’s favor. Other texts preach xenophobia and exclusion, if not outright hatred, of foreigners. The New Testament is not itself innocent here: some of its passages teach as a standard the subordination of women and slaves, and see both groups as chattels in part of a God-ordained order. Some of the four Gospels seem to seek to paper over Roman responsibility for the death of Jesus by blaming this example of the most Roman form of execution on the Jewish religious authorities; one even seems to apply this blame it to all subsequent Jews. None of these texts are examples of the Bible’s best values at work.
Even in the Psalter, the poetic collection we Christians tend to see as devotional and use in our morning and evening prayers, contains some pretty harsh stuff. Psalm 137 says, O Babylon, you devastator! Happy shall he be who pays you back with what you have done to us! Happy shall he be who takes your babies and dashes them against the rock!” (vv 8-9). And each time I hear the exquisite Psalm 23, the Lord is my shepherd, I am jolted by the mean-spiritedness of the line “you spread a banquet table before me—while my enemies have to stand there and watch it!” Maybe the Psalter is telling us it’s O.K. to have the full range of emotions: what matters is what we do (or more importantly, do not do) with such feelings.
But there are moments of bliss and ecstasy in this collection as well, and great moments of unswerving and unsparing moral clarity. The very fact that it is other biblical authors who condemn the values held by some of them is evidence of God’s work in the world, and in the production of this collection of ancient writings. Throughout the biblical record, there is trust in a God who acts and approaches his people at whatever pathetic level they may be. There is hope in ultimate intervention by this God to change what is wrong in the world, and make things right. The New Testament Gospels tell the story of what they see as God’s definitive act to do this: the life, death, and bodily reappearance of Jesus after his death. Jesus’ teachings in the Gospels routinely condemn fear and hatred of the foreign, legalism and the use of religion to oppress others, and tell again and again of a loving God who pours out his love and grace upon all, regardless of their condition or origin.
When we read the whole of this baggy, loose, and at times contradictory collection, it becomes clear that it impossible to say that each and every statement in scripture reflects God’s will for us.
Some sayings, passages, or teachings there, though perhaps originally intended to express what the author thought was God’s will, are within the context of the whole collection clearly preserved as bad examples, or reassurance that even God’s people can be seriously flawed.
Others, in contrast, show with great clarity what God’s intention is: the parables of Jesus, the profound hope of the second half of the book of Isaiah, the stories of grace, love, and faith—like Ruth, or Job—within the larger context of human tragedy and horror. The stories of scripture, and the great variety of emotions expressed in the poetry of the Bible, tell us that it is O.K. to be human, but not O.K. to refuse God’s call to be something better than we are. Sometimes the change is immediate, like Saint Paul on the road to Damascus, sometimes a gradual process, like the gradual historical effects of God’s interaction with his people over time in terms of their belief systems.
Martin Luther talked about the need for a “canon within the canon,” when it comes to interpreting the Bible and applying it to people in present circumstances. What he means by this is that we need a sense of what books and passages should be given priority in interpreting the whole so that we can sort out and make sense of such inharmonious, if not downright contradictory, doctrine and ethics that one finds in the Bible. Luther never would have argued this had he believed simply that all parts of the Bible were equally God’s word.
Scripture thus is not so much God’s thoughts written down, as they are the field notes of God’s people over the ages. They establish a dialogue with believers of all ages. It is in this sense of the Bible as a work of the believing community inspired and led by God, despite their weakness and occasional detours, that we, the believing community that produced and is also the product of the Bible, can affirm with the English reformers that the Holy Scriptures contain all things necessary for salvation.
Grace and Peace,
Fr. Tony+
No comments:
Post a Comment