Every few years I follow a “read through the Bible in a year” program. It’s not easy to stay on track, but there is a sense of accomplishment when that last chapter of Revelation is finished. It also helps me see the big picture of God’s work and how the whole story unfolds.
But I’m always amused by some parts of the Bible. My inner sarcasm comes out and I begin to laugh as I contemplate what the writers of Scripture were thinking. It’s a good thing I wasn’t hanging out with the Old Testament prophets and early Christians: I would have surely had them laughing and not taking the whole thing so seriously. That would not have been good.
Even though I know the Bible is (mostly) serious and (entirely) important, it’s hard not to shake my head and wonder, “Why include that?” Scripture is an odd collection of insights, confusing doctrine, human foibles, inexplicable Divine interference, culturally confusing poetry, songs that don’t translate so well into English, and wild adventures.
Adam and Eve, for instance. I’ve always said that when I get to heaven I’m going to ask them, “What were you thinking?” The temptation to punch Adam is going to be difficult to resist.
Then there are the Psalms. Some of them make me chuckle. Take Psalm 119. It’s incredibly long. The image that pops into my head is a synagogue full of the devout attending a worship service, and the music director who never wants to try anything new says, “Turn your hymnals to Psalm 119.” You can just hear the groaning as people say under their breath, “That song again? We’ll be here forever plowing through this bloated thing.”
Or look at Proverbs 31. Most folks know it as the “noble wife” chapter because of the last section. But before the perfect wife description begins, the author has this fun little insight:
Give beer to those who are perishing,
wine to those who are in anguish;
let them drink and forget their poverty.
So I’ve always wondered…does the husband have to be drunk to appreciate the perfect wife described a few verses below? How did these two issues get condensed into the same chapter?
And then there’s the fountain of all hilariousness in Scripture, the book of Revelation. I once asked a Bible study group to sketch a picture of Jesus based on a description that is found in the book. He had ten horns and twelve wings and seven mouths and so forth. When they were done, I irreverently said, “Well, there he is, your Lord and Savior. Attractive, yeah?” It made people wildly uncomfortable, of course, but it also emphasized that you can’t take things in that book too literally .
But all of this is why I love the Bible. The stories that seem like contradictions demonstrate the holistic nature of God’s love because they force us to struggle with our faith rather than simply drinking the Kool-aid of legalism (or permissiveness). We wrestle with the message, and if we’re diligent we find new truths in old stories. What seems silly, ridiculous, or completely irrelevant can suddenly take on new meaning if we’re willing to reflect on it for a time.
The Bible might seem odd in places, but the writer had a reason for those curious stories, and it’s worth honoring the author by reflecting on them. Flippantly dismissing things at first reading is foolish; this book has been around thousands of years, and wiser people than us have found value here. Recognizing this gives us the opportunity to experience a full range of joy, wisdom, and ultimately peace in the Bible. The delicate balance between personal insight and divine inspiration gives the Bible beauty.
Anyway, that’s why I continue to read this confusing, outdated, bizarre old book. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go serve some beer to the poor.