Tuesday, April 15, 2025

How Not to Read the Bible

 

How Not to Read the Bible

April 15, 2025

I am a retired, ordained Christian pastor. I came to ordained ministry later in life than most of my clergy colleagues did. I served only two churches and was active in ministry for around sixteen years. During that time, and in different situations since then, I have led or participated in groups of Christians doing Bible study. Now, Bible study is, at least in theory, a good thing. It is necessary for the truly Christian life. After all, the only sources we have for the foundational stories of our faith are in the Bible and nowhere else. Over the course of my work with people on the Bible, and in my writing about the Bible, various things have become clear to me. One of is that the stories in the Bible are, essentially without exception, barebones stories. They tells us what they need to tell us in order to make the point or the points they are trying to communicate. For the most part, they don’t tell us things we don’t need to know in order to get the point(s) of the story. And that truth about Bible stories drives people nuts. It drives lay people nuts. It even drives a lot of ordained clergy people nuts. It drives them so nuts that they are forever focusing on what’s not in the story rather than on what’s in it. I’ll give you two examples, both of them from the Gospel of Luke.

Luke contains what is perhaps the most famous, or at least the second most famous, of all of Jesus’ parables. It is the story of the prodigal son. You’ll find it at Luke 15:11-32. It is quite long for a parable, but it’s still a parable. I’ll recap it briefly. A man has two sons. The younger of them asks his father for the share of his father’s estate that he would receive as the father’s heir. The father gives it to him. The son takes the money and runs. He goes to some unspecified place far away. There he squanders all of his money “in dissolute living.” He falls on very hard times, so he decides to return to this father and ask his father to treat him like one of the father’s hired hands, He prepares a little speech of confession that he plans to give his father. As he comes home, his father sees him from far away. When the two meet, the son starts to give his little speech of confession to his father. His father doesn’t even let him finish it. Instead he tells a servant to give the son a robe, a ring, and sandals and to prepare  a feast, for “this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” Luke 15:24. It’s enough to make you want to start singing “Amazing Grace.” There’s more to the parable, but this is enough to make the point I want to make; so in the manner of a good parable, I won’t give you more.

Then there is the story of the “Last Supper.” You’ll find Luke’s version of it at Luke 22:7-23. In this story, it is the time of the Passover, a sacred day in Judaism. Jesus tells Peter and John to go prepare the Passover meal for Jesus and his friends. They ask where they’re supposed to do it. Jesus tells them that when they enter the city, Jerusalem of course, they will meet a man carrying water. They are to follow him to a house. They are then to tell the owner of the house that “the teacher,” clearly Jesus, asks where he may eat his Passover meal. He will show you a room, Jesus says. That’s where you are to prepare the Passover meal. The story of the Last Supper continues of course, but I needn’t give you more of it here.

Now we have to ask: What is a parable? A parable is a story that never happened but always happens. It is told to make a point. In the Bible it’s usually a theological point. A parable is not a novel. It isn’t any kind of extended literary work. Jesus’ parables are without exception short. They tell us what they need to tell us in order to make their point. They don’t waste our time with other unnecessary details. We see the two stories I just outlined, one of which is explicitly a parable and the other of which we should consider to be a parable, doing precisely that.[1] The parable of the prodigal son says the son squandered his money in “dissolute living.” It doesn’t tell us what “dissolute living” is. The prodigal’s older brother thinks its consorting with prostitutes, though we don’t see how could possibly know that that’s what his brother has done. See Luke 15:30.

Time and time again, when I have discussed this parable with church folk, people get all hung up on what the prodigal’s “dissolute living” actually was. Was it consorting with prostitutes? Was it drinking all of his money away? Was it spending the money on frivolous or even harmful other things? Was it carelessly lending money to people who he should have known would never pay it back? Luke’s parable just doesn’t tell us what this “dissolute living” was in any detail. All it gives us is that the prodigal has somehow lost all of his money is some “dissolute” way. We, of course, need to understand what “dissolute” means if we’re going to understand this parable. Online dictionaries define it as “lax in morals” or as something other people don’t approve of. Consorting with prostitutes may well be “dissolute,” but so can a lot of other things be.

What we need to understand here is that the parable doesn’t tell us more about what the prodigal did with his money because it doesn’t have to in order to make its point! The details of what the prodigal did to lose his money just don’t matter in the parable saying what it wants to say. All we need to know is that the prodigal has lost his money in one or more disreputable ways. So why, when studying this parable, get hung up on the unprovided details of what the prodigal actually did with his money? What he actually did with his money doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s lost it in some dishonorable way. How not to read this parable? Read it for what’s not in it and for what doesn’t matter for the parable’s point. That, sadly, is what far too many people do.

Then there’s Luke story of the setup for the Last Supper. This story doesn’t tell us how Jesus knew what his disciples would encounter when they entered the city. It doesn’t tell us why a man would be carrying water when, in the culture of this time and place, that was woman’s work. (True, the parable doesn’t say it was woman’s work, but it is always proper and even necessary to read Bible stories in their original context.) It tells us nothing about the owner of the house. Was he a follower of Jesus or wasn’t he? It tells us nothing about the house other than that it had a large upper room. Did it look like the house of a wealthy owner, or was it a poor, humble dwelling? It says “they” prepared the Passover meal. Who are they? Peter and John? Probably, but preparing the Passover meal was also woman’s work, and the story doesn’t tell us why the men Peter and John would have done it. This story just has a lot of holes in it.

Now, if we were the authors of the parable of the prodigal son or the story of preparations for Jesus last meal with his disciples, we probably would have filled in those holes. We are, after all, used to modern novels that contain a lot of description of physical settings and character development. Modern readers want to have those sorts of details in their novels and even in their nonfiction reading. But there is nothing in the Bible remotely like a modern novel or modern nonfiction literature. It is an illegitimate way to read the Bible to try to turn it’s stories and parables into modern literature. It is illegitimate to focus on what isn’t in the parable or story rather than on what is actually in it. Yet I have experienced church folk trying to do precisely that all the time. So I say to them: Knock it off! Let’s deal with what is in the Bible not with what isn’t. Lord knows there is enough that is in the Bible to keep us busy studying and considering for a lifetime. So let’s get on with that important work and give up the unimportant and inappropriate work of reading things into the text that aren’t there.


[1] John Dominic Crossan suggests that we treat the whole Bible as a parable, which is at least an interesting suggestion.

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