On Not Reading the Bible

"Quit worrying about corroborating your sources--it's not as if anyone is going to take all this literally."

A friend of mine, a fairly recent Orthodox Convert from Protestantism, asked me to read an article by an Orthodox scholar that discussed a certain construct for interpreting the Old Testament. My friend was struggling with "how to understand" many passages in the Old Testament, and he was wondering if he should be reading the Old Testament at all. He mentioned that recently he wasn't even reading the New Testament that much either. He asked for my input; so, for what it's worth, this is what I put in.

I looked briefly at the article, but I couldn't get into it—probably because it is not a driving question for me. The Fathers looked at the OT in all sorts of ways and often contradictory ways (contradictory, from a certain categorical, western perspective). Basil the Great might interpret one passage as allegorical in one context and as factual history in another. He might focus on a moral/legal interpretation of a passage in a letter, and in a sermon refer to the same passage typologically. For us who are so steeped in a "bible as history" mentality, we may need philosophical constructs that allow us the freedom to read the Old Testament spiritually, or read it in any way different from how fundamentalist Protestants have read it for the past few hundred years. So just about any construct that gives you that freedom is good, so long as you don't go and make an idol of the construct: that is, "Now I know THE Orthodox way to read the Old Testament." As far as reading the Old Testament is concerned, I think everyone who can read it should, at least once in their life, under the guidance of a spiritual father or guide of some kind. The Old Testament is our Bible, but it is read in the Church, and learning how to read the Bible in the Church requires mentoring. Regarding the New Testament, I understand that Protestant converts often need a break, a time of not reading the Bible on their own to soak in the Church's understanding of the story of our salvation, so that when they go back to the Bible they can see with new eyes. When I became Orthodox, about two years in, I had to stop reading the Bible. I realized that I kept seeing in the Bible what I had always seen as a Protestant. I needed time to take off my Protestant glasses. When I went back to reading the Bible regularly again (after a few years), I not only saw what I used to see, but I also was able to see so much more.  I felt like I was experiencing that line from the Gospels where Jesus speaks about Scribes who come into the Kingdom and bring out of their treasuries things both old and new.

But What Does the Bible Say?

In one of his mini-talks about the history of Anglicanism, Professor Ron Dart speaks of Erasmus and the the Church Fathers.  In that talk, Professor Dart relates a bit of correspondence between St. Augustine of Hippo and St. Jerome, translator of the Vulgate (the Latin translation of the Bible that was used by western Christianity for almost 1500 years).

In this correspondence Augustine asks Jerome how to translate a particular passage from a letter of St. Paul.  Jerome responds by citing several different Church Fathers saying this one says one thing, that one says another and a third says something else.  Augustine writes back, "But what does the Bible say?"  Jerome responds, that the very reason why we read the Holy Fathers is that the Bible is not clear.   Many passages can and have been read one way by one holy Father and differently by another holy Father.

When I was a young Protestant, I was told that the Bible is God's handbook.  It is the guide to Christian life.  Certainly this is true, but a problem lies in what we think a handbook is.  If we think that the Bible is a handbook like the Betty Crocker Cookbook, then we cannot help twisting and perverting what the Bible says to fit our expectations and then denouncing as fools or demoniacs those who twist the Bible differently to meet their expectations.  And that, pretty much, was my Protestant experience.  People read the Bible and get something from it that is different from what their neighbor is getting and end up condemning their neighbor because they read some biblical passages differently.  This is where the thousands of different Protestant denominations have come from.

But what if we understand "guidebook" differently?   What if the Bible is a guide book like the diary of pioneer might be considered a guide book for those who follow.  Such a diary would certainly be a valuable guide to those who plan to follow the pioneer, even though the diary was not written to be a guide.  It was written as a diary.  And certainly, letters written by other pioneers would also be useful to help guide those who follow.  But again, as useful as these letters might be as a guide, they were not written as a guidebook, but as letters to specific people about specific matters at a specific time.  And what if we were to add to this guidebook poetry, historical records, songs, records of dire warnings of historic events now long past and other writings--all written over a 1500 year period in three languages.  Certainly, all of this would be useful, but it would not be easy to interpret, understand and apply.

And yes, even with the Holy Spirit breathing through the pages of such a guidebook, still it would not be easy to interpret, understand, and apply.  All we have to do is look at the evidence.  Holy people who have spent most of their lives reading and studying the Bible still do not agree on everything. 

And I think that was St. Jerome's point.  

We want so much to have something firm to base our syllogisms on.  We want to remove mystery from our foundations so that we can rely on our speculations, on our logical extrapolations of first principles. We much prefer being philosophers to being theologians.  Philosophy extrapolates from firm givens, theology (in the Eastern Orthodox sense) only knows, knows from experience of God.  Very little can be proven, yet much is known.  And much is messy.

I think that may have been what bothered St. Augustine about St. Jerome's response.  St. Jerome acknowledged the messiness of theology.  St. Jerome could be at peace with three holy Fathers each interpreting a passage differently; perhaps St. Augustine couldn't.  And perhaps all of us (especially in the West) struggle at times with the messiness of Orthodox Christian theology.  We want to know the answer, as though the answer were a statement and not a Person.  We want to know the right position on some matter, a matter that perhaps even the Holy Fathers have seen differently.  We want to know which ones are right.

But Christ is the only sinless One.  Our righteousness and rightness is in Christ alone--not in being correct over against someone else.  The Orthodox Church puts a great deal of emphasis on right believing.  But the actual dogma that the Orthodox Church demands us to rightly believe is not very large--it is all found in the Creed of Nicaea.  And as important as it is to believe the right doctrines, the Orthodox Church teaches us that in the Last Judgement before God, no one will be questioned about what they did or did not believe.  In the end, what will matter is how we have loved, how we have cared for "the least of these, and how what we have believed has helped us enter the Mystery of Life in the Incarnate God.  

The prophets of the Old Testament warned God's people in the past that right belief, as important as it is, is not enough.  In fact, even those without right faith--Ninivites, Moabites, Samaritains and others--found salvation from God through repentance and trust in God.  How easily we forget the teaching of Jesus: Judgement is not based on what we believe but on whom we believe.

Perhaps that's why God has allowed Orthodox theology to be so messy: to remind us that Transfiguration comes through communion with God, love of neighbor and humility (knowledge of self), not through being right.

For fear of the Jews

One of the phrases that repeatedly appears in the biblical and liturgical texts surrounding the death and resurrection of our Lord is "for fear of the Jews." This is a very misleading, though accurate, translation of the text. It is accurate because, well, that is what the text says. It is misleading--and, I might add, has been used to justify terribly inhuman behavior to Jews throughout Christian history--because it gives the impression that "the Jews" who were feared were somehow a different race or religion from those who were fearing. This is not the case. The followers of Jesus--those who were fearing--were all Jews, too. Gentiles (non-Jews) did not begin to join the followers of Jesus for many years after the resurrection. In fact, the first big argument in the Church was whether or not non-Jews could be followers of Jesus at all.
Within a couple hundred years, the phrase, "for fear of the Jews," actually began to have a meaning that is the exact opposite of what the original writers intended. What the biblical writers intended is something like what I might mean if I said in a letter to my bishop, "We fear the British Columbians." I and everyone in Holy Nativity (except one couple who commutes from the States) are British Columbians. At the time of the Apostles, when all followers of Jesus were Jews, Judea was under foreign occupation by the Roman military. The name "Christian" had not yet been coined--they were just followers of the Way, one of many sects of Judiasm. At that time, Jews were generally in fear of the Romans. But the biblical writers want to make clear that it was thier own people and their own religious and political leaders (and not the Romans) whom the followers of Jesus were fearing. They do not fear someone from another group, a religous or political or racial foreigner. Rather, they fear their own family.
Today, and thoughout most Christian history, "Jew" has referred specifically to a non-Christian religious group, often conceived as a different race from the Christians. Consequently, a phrase like the following, spoken by St. Peter on the day of Pentecost, has almost the opposite meaning today as it did 2000 years ago.
"Therefore let all the house of Israel know assuredly that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ."
When Peter, the Jew, said this, he was speaking to Jews. In this sentence, "you" means "us." Today, "you" means "not us, but them."
Therefore, I do not like the literal translation of "Jew" in biblical and liturgical texts. It just doesn't mean what it used to mean. Furthermore, and this is huge, throughout history this changed understanding has been used as a defense for the undefendable brutality of powerful Christians against Jews. Therefore, wherever possible, I prefer translating "Jews" as either "the people" or "the rulers" or "the Judeans" depending on the context.
Unfortunately, I am on no committies for liturgical translation. I do not have the authority to change texts (only bishops do). However, if you ever hear me reading the Bible or a liturgical text and substitute "Judeans" or "leaders" for "Jews," now you will know why.