Feb 20, 2012 4
The Revenge of the Bible
When I converted from Catholicism to the Evangelical/Baptist camp at the age of 15, I thought of myself in terms of Martin Luther. I knew what the Bible says. I believed it. Little did I know I’d just set the stage for my own theological destruction.
Luther’s phrase, “Here I stand, I can do nothing else” comes to mind.
That rule became a ticking time bomb.
When your belief system requires obedience to the Bible above everything else, you’ve essentially created a standard that is above your belief system. Where the Bible leads, you must follow, even if that dismantles your other beliefs.
For as much as I love the Bible and look to it as a key source of direction in my faith, I can also see how reliance on the Bible alone creates churches full of mini-Luthers who are all taking stands all over the place. This simple observation is almost enough to explain the tumultuous history of Protestantism that continues today in online spats and denominational divides.
Everyone is quite concerned about figuring out where to stand. If Luther took a stand once, shouldn’t I do the same?
After obsessing for years over where I stand, I’ve been wondering if a more helpful matter is figuring out how we got where we are—the walking of yesterday rather than the standing of today. Here are three things I’ve learned by looking at where I’ve come from rather than where I stand:
How Awesome Am I?
Focusing on where I stand gives myself too much credit. Did I really figure all of this out? Nope. I have benefited from those who came before me.
Am I awesome? Not very. Even Luther would probably call me a swine or a fart bag—he was a pretty crass fellow.
I owe just about everything to those who came before me.
How Objective Am I?
When I step back to look at the circumstances that helped give birth to what I believe and do as a follower of Jesus, I gain a really helpful perspective. Not only have I not made up everything I believe, but I’m taking on a set of beliefs from one time and place and applying them to my own.
I may discover that the beliefs I’ve adopted have some major short-comings if I know a little about their history. Otherwise, I’m not objective enough to figure things out on my own.
The Bible Doesn’t Work in a Vacuum
You can’t distill the Bible into a test tube where you figure out precisely how to live. To use another metaphor, it makes for a poor set of blueprints.
I have often found it far more helpful to think of the Bible as a portrait painting. You can go to a gallery and appreciate how an artist interacted with his subjects at a particular time and place and offered his own representation of it. The nature of the paint or the ability of artists to capture light determined what the paintings look like in each period.
The Bible will not be tamed. It will disturb, disrupt, and shock us. My beliefs have changed so much over the years, and I honestly don’t know what I believe about certain things any more because I always find out something different about God each time I read the Bible.
In reality, I do very little standing when it comes to the Bible. I see myself running, just trying to catch up to the interpreters who came before me and with the various stories that sometimes create portraits of God and his followers that are hard to reconcile with one another.
When you sign on to make the Bible your sole authority, you’re signing up for a wild, disruptive ride where anything contrary to the scriptures needs to go. If you know where your beliefs came from in the first place, you’ll at least be ready for this and have a better idea of where the most dramatic bumps and turns will come.
If you don’t know where your beliefs come from, you’re at the mercy of a Bible that will push, pull, and punch. The Bible will give us plenty of comfort, but with its words of encouragement comes a disruptive message that can topple over every belief system—even the belief system that claims to revere the Bible more than any other.










