I’m not
sure who came up with the idea that the Bible is “Basic Instructions Before
Leaving Earth,” but they were wrong. I grew up with this slogan for the Bible
but as I began my undertaking of a Master’s in Christian Scripture a little
over a year ago, I have some thoughts on this. BASIC is hardly a word I would
apply to that behemoth collection of books, INSTRUCTIONS probably applies to
far less of it than you would think, and BEFORE LEAVING EARTH has some
implications that are troubling in their own right. Likewise, orthodox theology
is filled with ideas that are often confusing, troublesome, and even
problematic. Yet somehow many in the church that I, and many of my peers in
Generation Y grew up in, have tried to gloss over the challenging portions of
our scripture and theology or worse, swept them under the rug. I am fortunate
to presently be in a context where I get to wrestle through these scriptures
and these theologies with some incredibly bright students and some of the
finest Bible scholars and theologians I could ever hope to learn from as I
study in seminary. I am in a very fortunate situation in which my questions are
encouraged and my frustration is not shunned. Yet many people in my generation
have found themselves stuck in places where their questions are cast aside.
I have
about a half dozen friends who spent time in one particular “Bible School”[1]
program. The sort that doesn’t get you a degree, but the kind where you go live
and serve with people, take semi-formal classes about the bible or ministry,
and then go on mission trips. They brought questions to Bible School. They were
given answers at Bible School. The answers, however, seem to have been the sort
that stem conversations and stop troubling questions. My perception is that
these friends of mine were asking questions that were not easily answered. And
yet, they received “easy answers.” They received the answers that implicitly
said, “You need to stop asking these sorts of questions.”
·
“Is homosexuality wrong?” “Yes, the Bible says
so.” “Then why don’t we make women cover their heads in church?” “That was a
matter of cultural context.”
·
“Should we take the whole Bible literally?”
“Yes!” “Then what about Proverbs 26:4-5? Do we answers fools according to their
folly or don’t we?” “…”
·
“Why does God let bad things happen to helpless
people when he could stop these things from happening?” “No one knows but God”
“Right, but can we talk about it?” “I wouldn’t want to cause people to stumble
over intellectual issues. You just need to have faith.”[2]
The friends I have in mind as I
write this are not unique in their experience; their program was not a cult nor
is it a hub of ignorance. It was filled with people doing their best. Likewise,
I have to believe that the pastors, teachers, and speakers that many of my
other fellow Generation Y companions and I grew up hearing were very well
intentioned people as well. I don’t mean this in the “road to hell is paved
with good intentions” sense, I mean it with sincerity. They taught us what they
were taught, and the answers they regurgitated had probably worked for them for
their whole lives. But as you may have heard, we are living in an increasingly
“post-Christian[3]”
nation; Christianity is not “assumed” any more. People want to know why, and
“Because the Bible says so” is becoming a less satisfying answer everyday.
This is not
to say that our historic brothers and sisters of the faith were not asking
questions. They were. The church has always had prophets; the ones who ask,
“Why are we doing it this way? Why do we believe this? Is this really what God
wants from us?” Yet somehow, I get the sense that I did not grow up with many
of those types around me. It seems that many of my friends didn’t either. As a
result, I now find myself surrounded by people who are asking questions that
their “Bible Schools” are scared to touch. Interestingly, because I am in
seminary and apparently have sufficiently trustworthy character, I find myself
being on the receiving end of many of these sorts of questions. As I sit with
my friends and hear these challenging questions, I understand the temptation to
easy answers. I am in seminary full time, thinking about and reading about the
issues that my friends are asking about all the time. Often I wish I could
answer, “It’s simple! Here’s why.” yet at my moments when I speak honestly I
find myself saying, “I’m not sure. But one thing I know: it’s complicated.”
Just about a week ago I was
attending a “Theological Panel on Sex and The Body” at Naked City Brewery (an
incredibly Generation Y thing to do) and I heard a statement that I think
defines many of my Gen Y comrades’ view on the church remarkably well. In
comments about the oftentimes shallow view of sexuality Generation Y Christians
grew up being taught, a woman stood up and said something very similar to, “I
am not mad that my pastors may have been wrong about this. I am mad at how
ardently they insisted they were right.” Gen Y is ok with questions. I think
God is ok with questions too. In fact, I think that the sacred book we stumble
through all the time shows this same sort of God.
The book of Job typifies Gen Y
pretty well in some ways. Many of us grew up hearing the story of Job as the
story of the man with deep faith. If you only read Job chapters 1, 2, and
42:10-17, you’d probably be right in assessing the story as little more than
that. Job loves God, but then loses everything, but then Job is faithful, then
God gives it all back twofold, and Job lives happily ever after. However, Job
is the guy who, among his first words mind you, says, “Let the day perish in
which I was born… Why is light given to one in misery, and life to the bitter
in soul, who long for death but it does not come… whom God has fenced in…”[4]
Job will even go on to accuse God of shooting him with poisonous arrows[5].
Yet God will say to Job’s seemingly respectful and reverent friend Eliphaz, “My
wrath is kindled against you and against your two friends; for you have not
spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has.”[6]
Job, the man who said that God was using him for divine archery practice, is
the one who, according to God himself,
has spoken rightly about the divine. God can handle our questions, even if the
church can’t. Ironically the Bible, the Church’s book, even commends those who
ask the seemingly impossible questions.
The church[7]
may not have done a great job about being receptive to Gen Y’s questions. However,
there is a book full of answers right in the middle of the Bible, which many in
my generation, myself included, were enthusiastically recommended: Proverbs. Proverbs
is a much-needed balance to our other two books of wisdom literature and it has
some great things to say. That being said, there is a reason we have three
books of wisdom literature. Job asks the hard questions. Ecclesiastes, my
favorite of the three, acknowledges the fact that life is hard, it doesn’t make
much sense, wisdom will only get us so far, and we will probably die confused
about the events that our life contained. The book of Proverbs, by very
important contrast to these first two, instead is filled with little catchall
phrases that seem to suggest one-dimensional answers to address our
multifaceted questions. However, Proverbs also assumes, for better or for
worse, that you already possess enough wisdom to know when to apply the very
particular sorts of wisdom contained within its pages. Yet many of us were
recommended Proverbs as though it were the book that contained the answers to
all of life’s questions. And so you may ask, “What do I do for my suffering
friend?” And Proverbs 31:6-7, my personal favorite proverb, will answer: “Let
beer be for those who are perishing, wine for those who are in anguish! Let
them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more.”[8] Perhaps
my homebrewing is holier than I ever imagined. Anybody perishing? I’m supposed
to give you beer.
Yet before reading Proverbs, I
commend the book of Job, with all its darkness and gloom, to all of us, but
especially to Generation Y. In Job, the man with a death wish, who accuses God
of inaction[9],
is the holy man. The ones who rush to try and defend God? God’s wrath is
kindled against them. Job is a man of integrity; he asks the hard questions and
will not take cheap answers. And at the end, after talking through his
questions and hearing from God, Job is able to relent and be comforted, even in
his pile of dust and ashes[10].
May we all ask our questions with
sincerity, without being scared of God and may we all have Job’s integrity as
we do so. May we remember that God is not scared of our questions. As a matter
of fact, God wants our questions, and God is big enough to handle them. Please
do not stop asking, because I believe that God will not stop listening.
[1] I
do not say “Bible School” with quotation marks as an attempt at mockery. I
simply wish to indicate that the sort of Bible School my friends attended is
not the same as what people experience when they go get a B.S. in Biblical
Studies, or what one experiences as they pursue a seminary degree.
[2]
These are not actual responses to actual questions they asked, but you may
recognize the sentiment I am getting at.
[3]
Saying America is “post-Christian” does not mean there are no more Christians.
It means it is no longer safe to assume that because someone is an American
they are also a Christian. In fairness, this was probably never a safe
assumption.
[4]
Job 3:3,20-21, 23b NRSV
[5]
Job 6:4 NRSV
[6]
Job 42:7 NRSV
[7] I
do not mean here to segregate myself from the Church but rather to say that,
though I love the Church, those in charge did not always handle our questions
the best.
[8]
Cited from the NIV because I love beer and it says beer instead of “strong
drink.” This is, perhaps, a selfish and exegetically unfaithful move, but if
you’re that much of a snob this is probably not where you go for top-tier
biblical scholarship. Regardless, I think my point still stands.
[9]
Job 19:7 and plenty of others.
