Why I Don't Hold to Inerrancy, Part II

Yesterday, I ended Part I wondering what questions we ask of the Biblical narrative. And this leads me to the essence of why I no longer hold to inerrancy: the doctrine of inerrancy asks the wrong questions.

The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia (vol. 2) says, "Those who speak of inerrancy usually mean freedom from any kind of error–scientific, historical, chronological, etc." (p. 821). But is this how the human writers of the Bible approached truth?

Let me make one side note here: those who believe in inerrancy and those who believe in infallibity both have an equal amount of respect and honor for God’s word. Both camps believe God’s word to be inspired (or God-breathed) and useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness (2 Timothy 3:16). Both believe that Scripture reveals God’s character (as, for example, omniscient, omnipotent, unfailing, etc.) and the creation, fall, and redemption of the world and humanity. Both take Scipture seriously.

With that in mind, I believe the argument for infallibility is stronger than the argument for inerrancy.

First, while God is all-knowing, sovereign, and full of truth, he works within limited humanity. Both camps believe this, but let me flesh it out. In working within humanity, he works within understanding and cultures in order to communicate. On the scientific level, the most obvious example is how the biblical authors reference the sun as rising and setting, which we today would acknowledge as a misunderstanding to the scientific workings of the cosmos. Even those in the camp of inerrancy acknowledge this.

But what about other aspects? For example, until Isaiah, the biblical authors wrote stories and poetry that affirms God as being more powerful than other gods. (Isaiah clarifies in tongue-and-cheek manner that these so-called gods are figments of our imaginations and craft.)

Or the Genesis account talks about God creating the sea creatures, a word used in other places to reference the mythological leviathan (Job 7:12; Isaiah 27:1; Psalm 74:13). In the culture of the biblical authors, the sea was a scary place filled with uncontrollable creatures called leviathan. In the creation account, God affirms his omnipotence over even these sea creatures. We see this theme carried through the Psalms and Isaiah and again in Revelation when John, picking up on passages such as Psalm 74 and Isaiah 27, notes especially that God destroyed the sea, which is the house of these sea creatures. In light of this, what do we do if these sea creatures (sometimes translated as dragon or sea monster) don’t actually exist?

This brings me to the area of genres. As God communicates within cultures, he does so with the genres of these cultures. So back to our Genesis creation account. our evolution v. Intelligent Design wars ask the wrong questions of the passage. The writer of the account (I’m refusing to name any names or go into this because I don’t want to get side-tracked with that discussion) framed the story with a common genre of Ugaritic creation accounts. Genesis 1 shares plot points with other Mesopotamian accounts. But it also has key differences (regarding the nature of God and the nature of humanity), and these differences would have stuck out to those familiar with the genre. (Augustine also speaks of the literary nature of the creation account.)

Does this mean that we can’t believe in a six-day creation? No, but it means that’s not the point. Perhaps that’s how God created the world. But perhaps it’s not. (For those of you interested in this issue, you can go here, here, and here.) The doctrine of inerrancy focuses on the wrong question.

Second, the Church creeds employ the term "infallibilty" but do not use the term "inerrancy." They use it to describe a sureness or certainty or faith in God’s word in matters relating to salvation and life. Scriptures are reliable, trustworthy, and meaningful to contemporary life. But that doesn’t mean they have to have the same types of standards (notice I said types, not levels) created in this scientific era. I take you again to Medieval days. Storytellers told and retold the account of King Arthur. With each telling, minute details changed over time. The tellers embellished or omitted certain things. They may have changed the order of events. But to the people at the time, this did not make the stories any less true or reliable. I don’t say this to intimidate that we need to adopt the Medieval mindset. I say this as a reminder that the current mindset, preoccupied with scientific and chronological details, does not need to be imposed on the mindset of the biblical writers in order to prove the reliability of Scriptures. God does not lie, but he limits himself in order to communicate to us. And as any exegete knows, in order to understand what God is communicating, we must understand how and why he does so.

One final note before you have at me. I don’t believe this means that we kowtow to science. (In fact, if you click on the last "here" link above, you’ll see that while I don’t think we have to necessarily hold to a six-day creation, I think there are theological and philosophical issues with evolution [on the macro level] to consider.) If inerrancy requires the Bible to be scientifically accurate, it opens the door for science to be the standard for truth, meaning things are only true if scientifically proven by humans. If science is the standard for truth, then a false dichotomy arises between science and the Bible. God uses science (as he does art and other facets) to continue to communicate to us (although in different ways than his biblical communication). We submit everything to God, knowing that our knowledge has always been and will always be limited but also knowing that these endeavors are part of fulfilling what it means to be human. And how fun is it that we have an eternity to learn, discover, and explore scientifically and artistically?

Why I Don't Hold to Inerrancy, Part I (and a Bible giveaway)

For those of you shocked by my title, you may take a minute to
pray for my soul. For those of you who think this is old school and you
don’t care why I don’t hold to it any longer, for heaven’s sake, you’ve
reached that conclusion long ago, you may want to scroll to the bottom
to find out more about a Bible giveaway (apropos, no?).

The
doctrine of inerrancy arose formally at the split of the evangelicals
and liberals then had a revival in the ’70s and ’80s during the
formation of the fundamentalists. At that latter date, some
evangelicals moved to the doctrine of infallibility, to which I hold.
Inerrancy defined first the evangelicals and the fundamentalists.

In his Systematic Theology,
Wayne Grudem defines inerrancy as thus: "The inerrancy of Scripture
means that Scripture in the original manuscripts does not affirm
anything that is contrary to fact" (p. 90). Sounds good, no? He goes on
to say that "the Bible always tells the truth, and that it always tells
the truth concerning everything it talks about" (p. 91).

Well, who wouldn’t say that the Bible tells the truth?

But you have to understand what is meant by truth. No, I’m not pulling a Clinton here. Let me reference The Discarded Image
by C.S. Lewis, in which Lewis presents an introduction to Medieval and
Renaissance Literature. Lewis tells us how Medievalists understood
truth. In every culture, we understand truth in light of the questions
we ask. “The character of the evidence depends on the shape of the
examination . . . It determines how much of that total truth will
appear and what pattern it will suggest" (p. 223).

In
Medieval times, they viewed truth as relating the honor of the hero
(i.e. Lancelot and King Arthur), learning the morality of the story
(i.e. Grimm’s Fairy Tales and Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales),
delighting in the beauty. In Modern times, the emphasis moved to
getting the facts right and transferring word for word. Truth is in
“historical accuracy”: what can be proven.

In light of this,
then, what do we mean by truth? Do we mean that the Bible is always
scientifically true? That it is always chronologically accurate? That
it honors the hero (namely, the triune God) or delights in beauty?

And that’s where I’ll end Part I and move to the Bible giveaway (speaking of Scripture).

Tyndale releases their new Mosaic Bible (which uses the New Living translation) today. You can order your copy on Amazon here.
I’m excited about this version (for lack of a better term) because it
organizes weekly readings according to the church calendar. It also
includes ancient and contemporary writings along with the readings. But
here’s the great(est) part: Tyndale is running a one-day contest. You
can enter to win a copy free. If you’re interested in participating,
you can find out the rules on their contest website.

Roamin' with the Romans

Recently, two friends and I decided to form a small group for spiritual formation. What we’re using incorporates lectio divina with spiritual disciplines and accountability. But all of that is neither here nor there.

Caveat: I’m a nerd.

dude-reading-a-bible-on-a-pumpkin cake

Image by bunchofpants via Flickr 

Today, I sat down to do my daily reading for the group–Romans 12:1-2 (which we’re to read out loud five times today). Around the third time, I wondered, "What does it mean to ‘test and approve’ God’s will? Do I don a lab coat and put it in a petri dish or crash it into a wall a dozen times to make sure the airbags work?" So, I pulled out my Greek (I warned you about my nerdiness!), which is rusty. But then I saw the coolest thing (you know how writers will use specific words and phrases on purpose to hint about things–Paul does that, too, and this ‘test and approve,’ which is only one Greek word, by the way, is one of those cool literary things). Then I read other parts of the verse in Greek and saw a couple of other cool things. Then (because I’m really a nerd), yeah, I pulled out this huge commentary I have on Romans (I don’t have commentaries on all the books of the Bible, but I happen to have one on Romans, and another that
covers Romans 1-8, but that wouldn’t help me here, so I only pulled out that one). And the guy who wrote this commentary is frakkin’ brilliant and showed me another couple of amazing things. So then, I thought, why don’t I write out my own translation/paraphrase in my own words to try and capture some of all of these incredible things? (I recently finished Eat This Book by Eugene Peterson.)

And I did. 

(Side note: The writing in brackets isn’t directly in the text, but it’s what I
learned from how Paul uses the language and compares it to things his readers would have known and things he talked about earlier in Romans.
Also, the last bracket, I get a little silly, but I think God
appreciates humor, especially when it comes from excitement about him.)

Romans 12:1-2 (my translation/paraphrase)

Because of all of this that I’ve been talking about [have you been listening at all, people? I’m talking about the new life God gave you where you were dead, rotting, decaying, corrupted, wasted, worthless and unable to distinguish fine Shiraz from a glass of piss], I highly encourage you, those of you who belong to Christ and have this new life, in light of God’s sparing us the consequences we deserve, to give your entire lives—your entire selves—as sacrifices [instead of just those cultic sacrifices killing animals you did at certain times in the temple]. These sacrifices—your very lives, every part of you, how you think and act every day—are alive [not like the dead animals], committed to God [set apart—we’re going to seem odd to the people around us!], and acceptable to God [ironically enough, all things God has made us—alive, set apart, and acceptable to him]. This is how you truly and genuinely worship God.

So how do you do this?

Stop frakkin’ thinking and acting like citizens of a nation that is dead, rotting, decaying, corrupted, wasted, and worthless! [For the love! Stop drinking piss when you can have fine Shiraz!] Allow yourself to be changed [by God] by reprogramming the way you think [just so you know, this will be a lifelong process].
Then, [instead of considering what God wants to be a waste of time, like those ungodly people whom I talked about in 1:28 do, or thinking you consider what God wants to be worthwhile but acting completely opposite, like the Jewish leaders I talked about in 2:18 do], you’ll be able to understand what God wants, and you’ll totally think it’s worth it. What he wants is incredible, the best EVER, and perfect [maybe even better than the gnocchi my friend Heather had at Villa Barone in Collingswood, NJ, which she says is the best stuff she’s ever eaten—or, even better! It’s better than an appetizer of the pumpkin soup she had at some restaurant in McKinney, TX, followed by a main course of Villa Barone’s gnocchi, accompanied by fine Shiraz, topped off by dark chocolate cake {without partially hydrogenated oil, of course, and homemade, with lots of layers} with tequila . . . but I digress].

(Side note 2: I use Zemanta, which automatically generates pictures possibly related to my post, and I can choose which one I’d like to use. The above picture is described as "dude reading a Bible on top of a pumpkin cake." Who can pass that up?)




Maundy Thursday: Betrayal

It all started tonight.

Yes, I recognize the incongruency in that statement, the past tense "started" with future reference "tonight." But that’s what it means to enter into the story of the Bible. In some sense, as the writers of Battlestar Galactice said, "All this has happened before; all this will happen again."

I don’t mean that Christ’s work on the cross isn’t finished. I don’t mean that he needs to be crucified again. I mean that as a believer, I enter this story again and again. It’s a part of me. It defines me, this story.

This morning, my husband and I listened to the Maundy Thursday chapters of the story, the part where Jesus breaks bread with his disciples one last time before his death, where he agonizes on the mount alone, pleading with the Father to do this another way, where one disciple betrays him with a kiss and another disciple betrays him three times before the rooster crowed.

Then Luke said, "The next morning," and we stopped the CD. We stopped it at betrayal and beatings and mocking.

All of this has happened before; all of this will happen again. I betray him. I mock him. I spit in his face.

Piss Christ.

Image via Wikipedia

There’s an art piece called Piss Christ, a plastic crucifix emerged in a cup of urine. It received some attention, particularly negative attention from the evangelical church. But the truth is, this cup of urine pictures what I do to Christ every day when I fail him. It pictures Judas’ betrayal, Peter’s betrayal, and my betrayal.

Tonight begins the crisis, and Jesus will be alone. Stripped of clothes, dignity, and friends. Soon, he will be stripped of the very presence of the Father.




Reading the Bible Good for the Mind

I came across this article today in Publishers Weekly about a man who read the Bible cover-to-cover for the first time. The result: Good Book: The Bizarre, Hilarious, Disturbing, Marvelous, and
Inspiring Things I Learned When I Read Every Single Word of the Bible.

Two things stuck out: his grasp of the richness and humor of the Bible (my favorite line from the interview: "To appreciate the richness, vitality and comedy that is in the Bible is to make it feel alive, joyful and exuberant.") and his advocacy that the Bible should be read in schools to understand how the Bible has affected our culture.

Tapestry: I Love a Good Myth

I’m up today at the Tapestry blog: I Love a Good Myth about how we read our Bible.

An excerpt: "The Bible is a story, or a collection of stories, that define a
people, that give the people identity."

The Mad Hatter's Tea Party

The Church and Postmodern Culture blog has a post up about interpretation. I’d love to get some of your thoughts about it.

Basically, it seems to me that they’re arguing that the method we’ve been using is determined by/tied to modernism. In fact, the notion that interpretation is a method (implying scientific method) is modern terminology.

The method of which they speak is the one in which I’ve been trained–getting to the author’s intent. You approach it this way: (1) observation, (2) interpretation, (3) application. You cannot have application without interpretation. Or another way to put it is (1) exegesis (what the author meant to his congregation), (2) theology (the transcendent meaning to all cultures), and (3) application (the significance for us). I think what they’re arguing is that approaching it with solely the author’s intent in mind both reduces Scripture to a science rather than living (in fact, I’ve heard others refer to it as taxonomy of doctrine) and is essentially egotistical (the idea that my interpretation over yours is right).

They don’t mean to completely abandon the idea of author’s intent, but to balance it with the idea of entering into the Scripture, of seeing it as a diaolgue. (You can’t get rid of cultural and sociological studies any more than you can claim that we all just pick up our Hebrew/Aramaic/Greek books and understand what’s being said.) It reminds me of N.T. Wright’s "epistemology of love" (in Surprised by Hope).

For me, this problem is partly (mostly) resolved by seeing the Bible as myth–not as untrue legends or stories but as the story (and stories) of my identity. It shapes me, defines me.  It explains my worldview. These are the stories of my people. These are the stories of my God. This is the story of origins and hope and future. I enter into this story. I’m part of it.

I do have a question though (a question with many questions): I agree that the method in which I’ve been trained arises from Enlightenment. My question is how does our interpretation now arise from postmodernism? Is that okay? Should we try to transcend it? Is that even possible? Or do we trust that God works within cultures?

What are your thoughts in how we approach the bible?