Misreading Scripture with Western Eyes

by E. Randolph Richards

  This creeping naturalism in Western culture leads us to a posture the Bible calls a vice: lack of faith. A full discussion of virtues and vices is in the next chapter. But all these areas connect, so let’s explore this particular connection for a moment. When I (Randy) was living in a remote part of Indonesia, I was often awakened in the middle of the night by grave news: “Quick, come to the dormitory, so-and-so is dying.” That will wake you up in a hurry. The first few times it happened, I nearly killed myself dressing and running full speed through the dark to rescue a student from the precipice of death . . . only to discover that he or she had a cold. The old “take two pills and call me in the morning” approach literally was the best treatment. Hundreds of students were sped toward recovery by the thousands of ibuprofen tablets I distributed.

  A few years later, I discovered that students considered me a man of little faith. All I did was give them medicine! They would always pray for the student after I had left. In my worldview, we had quit praying for colds and ear infections a generation ago. We understood them, so God was no longer involved—although we never said it so crassly. This is a serious loss. We no longer had a loving Father watching over us in the night. Our point is not that there is anything faithless about taking medicine. Our point is that at an unconscious level, our expectation that the universe operates according to natural laws excludes the possibility from our minds that God might intervene in our daily affairs.

  Conclusion

  Our commitment to rules is deeply entrenched. Today scholars debate whether Junia was a male or female name. It is hotly discussed. Why? Because Junia and Andronicus are both called apostles (Rom 16:7), and many evangelicals believe a woman couldn’t have been an apostle. Allowing one woman apostle would allow all women to be apostles (since rules have to apply to everyone). Therefore, some scholars have insisted that Junia was not an apostle. But this poses a problem, because scholarship has now shown conclusively that Junia is a feminine name. To preserve the sanctity of universal rules, at least one scholar has suggested that neither Junia nor Andronicus were apostles.[14]

  More dangerous still, we sometimes exchange our relationship with the living God for adherence to static rules. This tendency shows up in our theological language. Many evangelicals describe our standing before God in terms of forensic justification. While there is nothing wrong with the doctrine, it casts our connection to God in terms of rules, not relationship. But as Preben Vang argues, grace and faith are relationship markers and not forensic decrees.[15] Paul used these terms to define a relationship, not to explain a contract or a court ruling. Likewise, holiness is a relational and not a forensic term. Imagine a wedding ceremony in which the groom vowed, “I will kiss you twice daily, with one kiss lasting at least two seconds. I will make at least one statement implying thoughtfulness every morning. I will provide three hugs per week of medium snugness, lasting three seconds. Flowers will be provided on four dates a year of your choosing. Candy will be given with flowers on one occasion per year.” Such a vow does not arouse love. Rules never do. While a loving husband may perform all those actions, they are the results of the relationship, not the rules that establish it.

  Our tendency to emphasize rules over relationship and correctness over community means that we are often willing to sacrifice relationships on the altar of rules. Exegetes may discuss which party in Corinth was “right.”[16] Paul doesn’t seem to address their theology. He is more concerned with the status of their relationship. This raises an important question: does relationship ever trump theology? Such a question could convene a heresy trial in many denominations. But Jesus prayed that his followers would “be one” (Jn 17:11). Does this mean that we must somehow “correct” the theology of all other believers so that, as a result, we can “be one”? Paul in Acts 21 does not take the opportunity to correct James’s theology.[17] Most of us would not have been able to let it slide. This may be an indication that Paul prioritizes healthy relationship over doctrinal precision (Rom 12:18).

  We are called to “live by the Spirit” (Gal 5:25). Even after two thousand years, we are still uncomfortable with Paul’s law-free gospel. It still seems to us that the best way to avoid sin is by knowing and keeping the rules, even though Paul asserts, “Walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh” (Gal 5:16). It is an uncertain path, but it leads to abundant life. To do this, we have to learn to identify when the Bible is prioritizing relationship instead of rules or laws.

  One way to do this is to pay attention to the motivation or rationale a biblical writer offers for a commandment. For example, the Ten Commandments, as they are recorded in Exodus 20, begin with this claim: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt” (Ex 20:2). This reminder, which precedes the first command, puts the rules (commandments) that follow in relationship terms. There is an implied “therefore” between “I am the God who brought you out of Egypt” and “You shall have no other gods before me” (Ex 20:3).

  We Westerners should also likely consider being less rigid about the rules we read in Scripture. I (Randy) remind my students that one of the perks of being sovereign is that you get to do what you want. In fact, it often seems as if God is sovereign over everything except his rules. Like the Medes and the Persians, we seem to insist upon God being bound to his own rules. In Indonesia, I learned that one of the major responsibilities of the person “in charge” of an office is to determine when to make exceptions. Rules apply except when the one in charge says otherwise. Westerners might consider this arbitrary; many non-Western Christians consider this grace. Fees apply to everybody, unless the manager thinks someone really can’t afford it. Then he makes an exception.

  Questions to Ponder

  Paul discusses the gifts of the Holy Spirit in 1 Corinthians 12. While many Christians believe the Spirit still grants these gifts today, many other Christians believe they have ceased. Is it possible that naturalistic assumptions influence the way we interpret this passage? Do we assume this sort of gifting has ceased because “natural law” tells us they are impossible today?

  In 1 Corinthians 8, Paul discusses the oft-debated issue of eating food that has been sacrificed to idols. The Jerusalem Council had determined that one of the few laws Gentile Christians should observe is, “You are to abstain from food sacrificed to idols” (Acts 15:29). Acts offers no justification for the requirement. But Paul implies one in 1 Corinthians 8:13: “If what I eat causes my brother or sister to fall into sin, I will never eat meat again, so that I will not cause them to fall.” Could understanding this rule in terms of a relationship help make sense of how we apply this confusing regulation? Are Christians allowed to eat pork? (Most of us don’t wrestle with this one. If “freedom in Christ” applies to anything, surely it covers bacon!) What about the Christian missionary living in a Muslim village? Should she or he refrain from eating this meat because of relationships? Let’s move closer to home. Our friend Scott, a New Testament scholar and a gentle and godly man, enjoys a pint of ale. He lives and teaches in a Christian culture that believes in teetotaling. He never consumes alcohol, citing 1 Corinthians 8:13. Is he right?

  It may be scary to think that rules might not apply 100 percent of the time to 100 percent of the people. How will we know when to apply them? How do we “keep in step with the Spirit” (Gal 5:25)? What does that look like in practice?

  Historically, Christians have opted to keep Old Testament law, except for the ones we didn’t like, such as those related to pork, parapets, paydays and planting.[18] Isn’t it arbitrary to suggest to Christians that one may pick and choose laws based upon cultural preferences? By what criteria do we determine which laws apply to us today?

  Modern science is suggesting theories of how the universe came into existence. Many Western Christians are adamantly opposed to these theories. Is our opposition because we think it is flawed science, or is it because we know and fear our pattern? Once we understand how something works, we take God out of it. We all definitel
y don’t want to take God out of creation.

  -8-

  Getting Right Wrong

  Virtue and Vice

  Once upon a time there lived a little red hen. The little red hen worked hard to keep her family fed. One day while the little red hen was searching for worms, she came across a few seeds. She asked around to the creatures on a farm who know such things—the cat and the duck and the dog—and they all agreed that she had found wheat seeds. When planted, they told her, these seeds will grow into wheat, from which you can make delicious bread.

  The little red hen decided to plant the seeds, so they might grow into wheat that she might bake into bread. She asked her friends, “Who will help me plant the seeds?”

  “Not I,” said the cat. She didn’t want to dirty her pretty paws.

  “Not I,” said the dog. He was too busy chasing his tail.

  “Not I,” said the duck. He preferred to float in the cool pond.

  “Then I’ll do it myself,” said the little red hen. And so she did.

  Time passed and the wheat grew, and the crop needed to be weeded. Eventually the wheat needed to be harvested, and the harvested wheat needed to be ground into flour, and the flour needed to be made into dough. At each point the little red hen asked her friends to help her, and each time, lazy and leisure-loving as they were, they found some reason to say no.

  Finally the day came when the little red hen put that dough in the oven and began to bake her long-awaited bread. The smell of it baking wafted throughout the farm. The little red hen— somewhat facetiously, as it turns out—wondered aloud, “Who will help me eat the bread?”

  Suddenly all her friends had time in their busy schedules and were eager to lend a hand.

  “I will,” said the cat.

  “I will,” said the dog.

  “I will,” said the duck.

  But the little red hen wouldn’t have it. Where were all these so-called friends when there was hard work to do?

  “No,” she said. “You did not help me plant the seeds, or weed the garden, or harvest the wheat or grind the grain. So you do not get to eat the bread. I will eat it myself.” And so she did.

  You are probably familiar with this story and its familiar moral. We both grew up with this story, and Randy’s generation of Americans was profoundly influenced by it, or at least by the value it propagates. It teaches, to children who are too young to reason it out, a cultural value that goes without being said: you can’t expect to benefit from hard work if you aren’t willing to do hard work.

  This story causes more angst than many Western Christians realize. I (Brandon) live in the suburbs of Chicago. Invariably when I visit the city, I encounter panhandlers on the streets who ask if I can spare a little change. As a believer, I am taught to share. The first Christians, we all know, “sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need” (Acts 2:45). Jesus commanded us, “Give to everyone who asks you” (Lk 6:30). So during this encounter, the Christian voice in my head says, Share with those in need. At the same time, though, the voice of the little red hen sounds in my mind: No. They didn’t work. And another thing: why does that beggar need change anyway? Isn’t he just going to misspend it?

  Of course, these are unconscious thoughts. As soon as I verbalize them—or put them in print—I see them for what they are. Yet there they are lurking in the shadows. Worse yet, I can justify them by citing Paul’s exhortation in 2 Thessalonians 3:10: “The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.” When our worldviews collide, as we have noted before, we quickly try to harmonize them. In this situation, I am drawn to a single statement of Paul’s and bypass all of Jesus’ teachings about helping those in need.

  The hidden tension between the voice of Jesus and that of the red hen often reveals itself when college students go on mission trips abroad. Suddenly they become wonderful models of Christian generosity, giving without judgment. We have seen examples of students giving away all of their extra clothes, returning home with—literally—only the clothes on their backs. The students asked no questions; the recipients didn’t have to pass any worthiness tests. It was enough that the person was in need. Yet upon returning home, the same students are often shocked by their own reaction to the beggar on the street again. It seems that often the little red hen only applies in America.

  The little red hen story illustrates a deep, hidden and dangerous tendency that can lead us to misread the Bible. We are profoundly influenced by our culture to recognize certain behaviors as virtues and other behaviors as vices. These values are propagated in a number of ways. One way is through folktales, such as the story of the little red hen. Think, for example, of the story of the tortoise and the hare, which teaches that persistence and diligence are virtues that lead to success, whereas inconsistency and bravado are vices that lead to failure. These values are reinforced through cultural proverbs, such as “a penny saved is a penny earned” (the virtue of frugality), “early to bed and early to rise makes one healthy, wealthy and wise” (the virtue of hard work) or “a stitch in time saves nine” (the virtue of taking care of your possessions). Some of these proverbs sound as if they come from Scripture (and many people believe they do), like this one: “God helps those who help themselves”—which is likely anti-biblical. God helps those who rely on him (Ps 91:15).

  Virtues and vices are reinforced also through popular culture (and often media). Let’s pick a relatively harmless example. It is an American virtue to have teeth that look like a box of Chiclets. For this reason, we can easily pass judgments about people who are missing teeth; they must not be very smart. Perhaps you think your authors have crossed the line into pettiness? Surely Christians don’t judge people by their teeth. Not historically. In antiquity, no one brushed their teeth. Wisdom teeth were a gift from the Lord because by the time they came in, you needed them! (Wisdom teeth became a problem only in the last century when we began to keep all our teeth.) But think about it: Can you imagine a Jesus who doesn’t have all his teeth? It seems like heresy to suggest otherwise. We are not going to get into a theological argument, but most of the world would wonder why Westerners have this thing about teeth. My Indonesian friends would likely think, Who cares if Jesus had molars? Now that the matter is on the table, we all admit that it doesn’t matter if Jesus had all his teeth (although we secretly hope he did). Weight control and oral hygiene are Western virtues, not ancient ones—nor, arguably, biblical ones. Nevertheless, in a picture or movie, we need a slender, fit Jesus with a full set of pearly white teeth (flowing hair and blue eyes are a nice touch, too). Virtues and vices, though, are issues far more significant than cosmetic dentistry. While we might grudgingly concede a tooth or two, we are confident Jesus conformed to the rest of our virtues.

  Of course we like to believe that our conception of what constitutes a vice or virtue comes from Scripture. And sometimes it does. But we must be aware that through repetition over time, our culture shapes our understanding of vice and virtue at the unconscious level. Eventually, these values go without being said. And the unconscious cultural lessons often influence the way we perceive certain behaviors in Scripture and can lead us to ignore clear biblical teaching on vice and virtue if it challenges a previously held cultural value. Sometimes the little red hen just shouts louder than Jesus.

  Prioritizing Virtues and Vices

  Among the philosophers of Paul’s day, it was common to state virtues or vices in lists of five, often followed by one that summarized the list. Paul uses this pattern, since it would have been familiar to his readers. To the Colossians, Paul writes, “Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry” (Col 3:5). Paul uses “idolatry” to sum up his list of five vices. These were the vices the Colossians had already put out of their lives (Col 3:7). Paul then exhorts them to continue their pursuit of godliness by removing more: “But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slan
der, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other” (Col 3:8-9). Again, we see a list of five that is summarized by Paul’s command to stop lying to one another.

  When looking at Paul’s list, we need to note what went without being said. It is easy to major on the minor, to spend our reflective time concentrating on the parts Paul was not emphasizing. We need to be sure to notice what Paul wanted us to notice. First of all, we would be missing the point if we focus on the verbs Paul uses. Paul used a common image, often called today a clothing metaphor, when he talks about taking off vices and putting on virtues. Technically, English has these words, doff and don, but we seldom use them anymore. This imagery was not Paul’s point. It went without being said that pursuing godliness was like changing one’s filthy rags for beautiful robes. Changing clothing was the common parlance of the day. So Bible studies shouldn’t spend their time trying to describe vices and virtues as pieces of clothing. Second, we also should not focus on the fact that Paul listed five. It was the custom of the day to list vices in this way. It wasn’t that Paul could only think of five. Five wasn’t a sacred number. It isn’t an allegory, where these are the five toes as we walk in the Christian way, or the five fingers that help us hold on to godliness. The two lists together don’t add up to ten to symbolize the Ten Commandments. It was merely a Greek custom for describing virtues and vices. It went without being said. Similarly, sermons in the United States today often have three points. It is just a custom; we all know that.