“The Word of God stands alone and is inerrant!”
This is the mantra of so many selective literalists, dishonest folks who claim to follow
scripture where it enhances their power or wealth while ignoring everything that challenges
their privilege.
I heard something akin to this as an undergraduate studying literature. “You must never
worry yourself with the biography of the author! Now, let’s spend the next month reading
20th century confessional poets.” SMH
Of course a great work CAN stand alone… “Lord of the Flies” serves as a brutal parable,
even if we don’t know that it was written by a man who commanded a landing craft on D-
Day, then watched the world descend into Cold War. But does it hurt if we know? One of
my favorite 20th century poets, the Pulitzer Prize winner Theodore Roethke, wrote
remarkable pieces featuring plants and greenhouses. It does not diminish the work to know
that his childhood was actually spent in a greenhouse, the business of his German immigrant
family.
Knowing that Beethoven was going deaf but had turned away from suicidal thoughts to
create works like the “Missa solemnis” of 1823 makes these works more than just amazing
work, but also lessons in perseverance. The same goes for the paper collage works created
by Henri Matisse during the last 14 years of his life after his 1941 battle with cancer.
Context helps us appreciate scripture. Congregationalism, always valuing a “learned
clergy,” knew this, but it has been especially true since the mid-19th century, with the rise of
a school of Biblical scholarship called “historical-critical.” A further layer was added when
we began to understand that the Bible itself is a disorganized jumble tracing a theology that
evolved over the course of a thousand years. You can find radically different contexts and
theologies in the same book! Like an M. Night Shyamalan film, it only makes sense as a
whole.
The pastor’s challenge is to help you understand as much of that context, as much of that
whole, as possible in the space of a few short readings and a sermon of reasonable length
once a week, in hope that you will be able to construct a theology you can apply to your
own life. But ultimately, you decide what you believe, and how you will live those beliefs
into the world. I can be the guide, but you must do the walking. And if we are lucky, our
own story will be as vibrant as a late Matisse, as easily remembered as the opening bars of
Beethoven’s Fifth.
-Gary
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