"The Bible Tells Me, So?"

The Rev. Suzanne Meyer

Reading redacted from The Good Book: Reading the Bible with Mind and Heart (Wm. Morrow & Co., 1996), by The Reverend Peter J. Gomes, Minister, The Harvard Memorial Church, Harvard University

Poll after poll continues to find the Bible atop every best-seller list, and one survey after another confirms the fact that an astonishingly high percentage of American households claim not only to own a Bible, but to read it on a regular basis. Hardly a hotel room in the world is without a copy of the Bible in the bedside table, placed there courtesy of the Gideons.

Despite the ubiquity of the Good Book, it is increasingly clear that the rate of Biblical literacy has gone down rather than up. Although many people claim that the Bible is the literal word of God, fewer and fewer individuals seem to know or care what the Bible really says. Eight out of ten Americans claim to be Christian, but four out of ten Christians are unable to name the four gospels. And 10% of the American population think that Joan of Arc was married to Noah. A recent poll by the George Barna Research Group indicated that 38% of the people who claim to read the Bible were of the opinion that both the Old and New Testaments were written a few years after Jesus' death. Talk show host Jay Leno periodically does "an-on-the-street" interviews. One night he asked questions about the Bible. "Can you name one of the Ten Commandments?" he asked two college-age women. One replied, "Freedom of speech?" Leno then asked the other student, "Complete this sentence: Let he who is without sin . . . ?" "Have a good time?" was her response. Leno then turned to a young man and asked, "Who according to the Bible was eaten by a whale?" The man's reply: "Pinocchio?"

Many people want to do something about their Biblical illiteracy. There is something there that they feel they ought to know about, and yet they are frustrated in their attempt to read the Bible and to make sense of it for themselves. Because it is unlike any other book, reading the Bible is an intimidating enterprise for the average person. To remind the reader that the Bible is not a book but a library of books, written by many people in many forms over many years for many purposes, is to further complicate the ambition and add to the frustrations. Bound in its authoritative black leather and gilt-edged pages, with, in some editions, the words of Jesus printed in red, the physical artifact of the Bible has a certain aura. Add to this the powers attributed to it, with its designation 'holy' and therefore suitable for use in oath-taking and in sanctifying proceedings both civil and sacred, and the Bible is much more easily reverenced than read.

Here ends the reading.

My relationship with the Holy Scriptures began very early in my life, very early. I was only a few hours old when I was presented with my first Bible—a small white leather-bound King James Version of the New Testament. My mother's minister brought it with him when he came to call on us in the maternity wing of the Baptist hospital in Dallas, Texas. That particular maternity ward was, oddly enough, named in honor of Florence Nightingale—a British Unitarian. Perhaps that was an odd piece of foreshadowing of my future career. . . .

I proudly carried that little Bible with me to Sunday school for years. Much of what I was taught about the Bible in that Sunday School, I later learned, was completely wrong. Moses did not write the five Books of Moses; nor was little David, the shepherd boy, the author of the Psalms; Jonah was not swallowed by a whale; and the words written in my Bible in red, the words attributed to Jesus, were actually written down long after Jesus' death, by men who had never met him, much less heard him speak. Still I remember with great fondness my Sunday school teachers, the quarter my mother gave me for the collection plate, and my little white Bible.

Whatever happened to my first Bible, I do not know; but in the 50 or so years since I received it, I have acquired a dozen or so additional copies of the Good Book. Several of them are in the ever-popular King James Version beloved by generations for its elegant Elizabethan prose. All those "thees" and "thous," "whithers," "shalts" and "shalt nots"! Many people say they prefer the King James Version just because the language sounds more holy. I have Bibles that are much newer and that are much better translations of the original Greek and Hebrew. Although these translations may be more accurate in a scholarly sense, to me they just don't seem to sound as religious.

I also have in my collection of Bibles a modern English de-genderized version of the New Testament, in which all references to God and to Jesus have been translated into gender-neutral language. For example, instead of referring to God as King, or Lord or Father, the more gender-inclusive word such as Sovereign, or Parent is used. Jesus is called the Child of God rather than the Son of God. This new translation was supposed to appeal to radical feminists who accused the Bible of being written by and for male chauvinists, but I think that most of the radical feminists had given up on the Bible long before that de-genderized version came out.

Also in my collection are a few paraphrases of the Bible. A paraphrase is to the Holy Scriptures what USA Today is to the New York Times: the chapters are short, the words are simple, there are lots of colorful pictures, and there are notes in the margins to explain further what it is that you are reading. And I have a copy of the Thomas Jefferson Bible, in which Mr. Jefferson took a pair of scissors and cut out all of the miracle stories and left just the ethical teachings of Jesus, teachings which Jefferson much admired. From my first little Bible to the King James Version to Mr. Jefferson's version, over the years I have acquired many Bibles. And I have also acquired a love and deep respect for the Bible.

It seems that fewer and fewer people read the Bible anymore, but more and more people just assume that they know what the Bible is. They more often than not imagine that the Bible is a timeless, changeless, inerrant source of wisdom and knowledge that contains a clear, consistent message, and a blueprint for righteous living.

In fact, the Bible is not a single book, with a beginning, middle and end, with a consistent plot running through it. The Bible is in reality a whole library of books. It is a rich, diverse, fascinating, contradictory and frequently baffling amalgamation of ancient writings that grew out of times, places and cultures that are very different from our own. The order in which the books of the Bible are organized, the titles of the books, and the chapter headings and verses were not original to the text, but have been added over the centuries by various scholars. There have been a few other books, as well, that have been added to or removed from what we refer to as the "canon of Scripture" over the generations. As late as the 16th century, churchmen were still debating which books ought to go in the official version of the Bible. The result: the Catholic and Orthodox Bibles contain books that were edited out by leaders of the Protestant Reformation. Modern scholars continue to debate whether or not the Gospel of Thomas deserves to be included in the New Testament. So far from being a timeless, changeless, static collection of writings, the books that make up the Bible have always been subject to translation, interpretation, revision, redaction, editing, debate and criticism over thousands of years.

But more than just a book, or rather a collection of books and stories, the Bible has also become a powerful symbol. For some, the Bible symbolizes a higher law, or an irrefutable authority. As in, "I swear I'm telling you the truth. In fact, I'll swear it on a whole stack of Bibles!" For others, the Bible symbolizes danger or a threat. After all, the Bible has been used to justify slavery, war, persecution, pogroms, sexism, the corporal punishment of children, homophobia, anti-Semitism, and the burning of witches, heretics and scientists. Likewise, those who would abolish slavery, put an end to war, ban executions, and promote social reform have used the very same Bible.

For some, the Bible has come to symbolize almost magical or mystical powers, something supernatural. For example, take this story about a wealthy businessman who was a generous donor to his church. One day he went to his priest and said, "Father, you know I've given generously to the church for many years now. Truth to tell, business hasn't been so good lately. I've had some setbacks. I'm in deep financial trouble and I don't know what to do. I thought maybe you could help me."

"What do I know about business? I am but a poor parish priest. I'll pray for you, my son."

"Please, Father, I need more than prayer. I need a miracle to get me out of this financial mess. Give me a miracle! Tell me what I should do to get out of this jam."

The business man would not take "no" for an answer, no matter how many times the priest told him that he could not give him a miracle.

Finally, the exasperated priest said, "In the old country, when my grandmother was in trouble, she would open the Bible, close her eyes, and place a finger on a line of Scripture. Whatever the first words she read, she took these words to be the voice of God and acted accordingly. Perhaps you should give that a try."

Many months passed. Then, one day, long after the priest had forgotten his conversation with the businessman, a limousine pulled up to the church. The car door opened and out climbed the businessman. He walked into the priest's office, took out his checkbook, wrote a large sum on the check and handed it to the priest, explaining, "This is a gift to your church to thank you for that excellent advice you gave me."

As the businessman turned and walked toward the door, he paused and said to the bewildered priest: "I went home as you suggested. Opened the Bible. Closed my eyes. Pointed with my finger. Opened my eyes, looked down at where my finger pointed, and did exactly as the scripture instructed. As a result, I am back on my feet financially and business has never been so good."

The stunned priest asked, "What were those sacred words which brought about your salvation, my son?"

"Oh, those," said the businessman, laughing as he walked out the door. "I opened my eyes, looked down at the place where my finger pointed, and read the words: 'Chapter Eleven.'"

But the Bible is not just a symbol, nor is it a tool for divination. Nevertheless, the reality that everybody knows what the Bible is, coupled with the fact that fewer and fewer people actually seem to know what it really says, means that the Bible makes a rather dramatic stage prop. If you have ever observed the big-time televangelists, they often preach while holding up what appears to be an old, much read and much studied, leather-bound Bible. The televangelist typically quotes a lot of Biblical verses out of context, in rapid succession. And if the connection between the Bible verses and the issue at hand seems a bit improbable and strained, the preacher simply pounds the top of the lectern with the Bible for emphasis and cries: "Thus saith the Lord!"

I stumbled on how to use the Bible as a prop quite by accident. A radio station called me and asked me if I would be willing to take part in a radio call-in show along with the local president of the National Organization of Women and the local head of Promise Keepers, a conservative Christian men's organization. Reluctantly, I agreed.

It seemed to me from what little I knew about the Promise Keepers that they liked to quote from the Bible about the so-called proper role of the husband as the sovereign head of the household and about the proper role of the wife as his submissive help-mate.

Now the Bible, as a whole, is not as clear as you might think on the proper roles of men and women. Eve, Sarah, Rachel, Deborah, Naomi, Tamar, Mary Magdalene—you don't have to look very hard to discover that the Bible is full of uppity, not so very submissive women. And if the truth were told, Jesus was something of a radical feminist himself.

Nevertheless, I agreed to participate in the radio debate. As I dashed out of my office at the church on my way to the radio station, I thought I ought to take a Bible with me, just in case. As I hastily looked over my collection of Bibles, choosing which one to take with me, I remembered that my reading glasses were at home. Oh, no. That meant in order to be able to read the Bible without my glasses, I would have to take the biggest Bible I owned, the one with the largest print.

When I arrived at the radio station, I was introduced to the local head of the Promise Keepers. I could tell, right off, that he was a little intimidated by the size of my Bible. And so the radio debate between the president of the local chapter of the National Organization of Women and the local head of the Promise Keepers and me was off and running.

I won't tell you who I think won the debate, but when Mr. Promise Keeper quoted the Scripture that enjoins women to obey their husbands, I opened my big Bible and pointed out that the apostle Paul, just a few verses later, says that slaves ought to obey their earthly masters. "Did the Promise Keepers hope to bring back slavery as well as female submissiveness?" The phones lit up. I learned a valuable lesson that day—always speak softly and carry a really, really big Bible.

But the Bible is not just a symbol or a prop. It is a document that chronicles the struggles of men and women over a long period, as they sought to discern truth and meaning. It is not a book of philosophical concepts, or rules or advice so much as it is a book of stories with characters and plot lines, romance, intrigue and tragedy. The meaning of these stories is far from self-evident, and each generation of readers brings something of its own concerns and issues to its interpretation of the text. In other words, how you read the Bible and what meaning and wisdom you gain from the stories have more to do with who you are than with what the Bible says.

Liberals and skeptics are fond of pointing out all of the contradictions and inconsistencies, and improbabilities in the Bible and saying that if it is the literal word of God, God has a hard time making up his mind. Imagine the world created in six twenty-four-hour days, or the man Jonah being swallowed by a whale, or Moses parting the Red Sea, or Noah and the ark. The Bible is full of nonsense. Today we believe in the big bang theory, DNA, and evolution, not the Bible. We put our faith in science, not in myth!

I suspect that many of us would be surprised to learn that our Unitarian ancestors took the Bible quite seriously. In fact, they based their rejection of the orthodox doctrine of the Trinity on the fact that there was no mention of God as three persons in the Scriptures. Likewise, they rejected the idea of original sin on the same grounds. During the days of the Reformation, as well as much later, Unitarians produced some excellent Biblical scholars.

How then do modern-day Unitarians understand the Holy Scriptures. What can the Bible mean to us? Do we reject it? Embrace it? Ban it? Obey it? Here's the real skinny on Unitarians and the Bible. While the Unitarian tradition began as a Biblically-based religious movement within the left wing of the Protestant Reformation, by the beginning of the 19th century, the Unitarians were shifting away from Biblically-revealed theology and moving toward natural theology. By the end of that century, the major difference between orthodoxy and liberal religion might be best described as the difference between revealed religion and natural religion.

Revealed religion begins with the premise that God or the Divine is the "wholly other." God exists completely independent of and aloof from creation, and all that we can possibly know or understand about God is that which God chooses to reveal to us. The Bible is the inspired word of God or God's revelation of himself to us humans. We cannot understand the nature or the will of God except through these Scriptures. In other words, everything that we know or ever will know about God, the Holy, the Divine is between the covers of a single book.

In contrast, natural religion begins with the premise that the divine or the holy is not separate from creation, but rather moves in and through creation. The holy, whether or not you choose to call it God, is discernible naturally through the senses, the intellect and the moral intuition. In natural religion, science and faith are never at odds. Rather, the scientific method is simply one way in which we come to understand the web of existence in which we live and move and have our being. We read the world, the exterior landscape of the universe, and the interior landscape of the human mind: these are our holy scriptures. Each individual has it within himself or herself to perceive the holy as it exists within nature and human nature. The divine, the holy, however we choose to imagine it or name it, is immanent—that is present to us, the believer and the unbeliever alike, in and through the world. We believe that the scientist at her microscope, the poet at his desk, the doctor reading an X-ray, the landscape architect at his labor, the astronaut riding in the Challenger are all participating in the holy. For us there is no difference between religious knowledge as such and scientific knowledge as such when we are engaged in the world with our whole selves, our hearts as well as our minds.

The one-sentence statement that has characterized modern Unitarians is this: revelation is not sealed. In other words, religious truth has not been disclosed once and for all, captured in a single set of holy books or scriptures; but rather, religious truth is constantly being disclosed to those who are open-minded and open-hearted enough to receive it. Our religious quest is just beginning. We must not shut the book on a greater understanding of the universe and our place in it. There is more to come. The final word has not been spoken.

For us, the Bible is not the Word of God, rather it is the words of godly men, and perhaps women, who sought to understand the meaning of life. The Bible is a wonderful example of the human struggle to make sense of the world and our moral obligations to family, community, strangers, the natural world and God. The Bible is not a lens through which we see the world; rather, the Bible is a mirror. The Bible reveals us to ourselves by disclosing, through the medium of ancient story and poetry, the very human process of coming to terms with the meanings of life and death. How we interpret the meanings of these ancient stories tells us more about ourselves than about the intent of the authors. When we do not feel obligated to accept the "literal truth" of the Bible on faith, we are free to enjoy the stories for what they are—an account of the human quest for transcendent meaning in our lives. We read and reread the Scriptures, but not for their historical accuracy so much as to be able to share in the experience of those men and women who have journeyed before us. We, too, must struggle with the same issues that have troubled humankind since the beginning of time, as well as with new problems common only to our age and place. Every day we write new scriptures with lives faithfully lived. The Bible may be the holy word, but it is certainly not the last word.

Amen.