I have served as a Presbyterian pastor for almost four decades. One of the greatest joys of this journey has been engaging the Living Word of scripture. As a preacher I have been carried along weekly by the twists and turns of the lectionary, and in my teaching and personal devotional life, the stories and images of the Bible have grounded me amidst the turbulence of a changing world. I am unabashedly a biblical Christian–but being a biblical Christian is far from being rigid and doctrinal.

As an evangelical liberal, I seldom find myself settled in any particular theological camp. Taking the root of the word “evangelical” seriously, I am called to proclaim the “good news” of the Gospel in all that I say and all that I do. However, such “proclamation” is not about proselytizing, as much as it about incarnation–embodying the generous grace of Jesus Christ. It is this generous grace which defines “liberal”–the liberality of God’s love and power in all of life. Using this definition, I fear that most progressive mainline congregations have failed miserably in proclaiming the liberality of God’s grace with evangelical fervor. We have abandoned rigorous Bible Study. We have allowed others to use the authority of scripture as a weapon, rather than claiming it as our own. We have failed to offer the Bible as a healing balm in a troubled world. For the church to become a new creation in a secular, selfish culture, all of us who call ourselves Christian must reclaim the Bible and the Jesus who lives within it.

Having been educated within rigorous northeastern liberal arts institutions, my biblical understanding is rooted in progressive principles and values:

1) Basic to interpreting scripture is embracing the historical/critical method (JEDP), that places scripture within the womb of history.

The context of each passage–time, place, culture, circumstances–matters. And since the text matters historically, it also matters today. This cultural grounding of scripture invites us to look critically at the sociological, literary, psychological, and scientific realities of the time in which the text was written. Key to any biblical interpretation are two questions: what did it mean then, and what does it mean now? So we move beyond the plain reading of the text into the world of imagination, complexity, conversation, and wonder.

Two examples of scriptural creativity underscore the relevance of the historical, critical interpretation method . In Beacon, New York, a young pastor, Ben Larson-Wolbrink, recently started serving an old Presbyterian church, following a thirty-eight year pastorate. The traditional, nostalgic mindset of this congregation is entrenched. However, the larger community of Beacon is changing in exciting ways. A growing arts community, gay community, and immigrant community surround this old building filled with older, Caucasian members. How can scripture become relevant in this setting?

Ben has reached out to some of the spiritual (but not religious) artists in the neighborhood. He has invited them into a study of the gospel of Luke with members of his congregation. Artists who know nothing about the Bible, and Bible lovers who know little about art are learning and growing together. After each discussion, the artists take the text for the day and create an oil painting or sculpture or video clip to bring that text to life. The congregation has transformed its basement into a bright, open art gallery for the larger community. In this situation, the contemporary context makes all the difference in bringing the Word of God to life.

Another example of cultural and historical context making scripture come alive is in the wonderful work of biblical scholar Ken Bailey. Dr. Bailey has taught and written about the Bible for decades, all the while living in the Middle East, immersed in the culture and tradition of the places where the Bible was written. This experiential lens has provided fresh and vivid understandings of familiar old stories. By studying geography and language, Dr. Bailey has taken the Christmas Story and transformed the discomfort of “no room at the inn” into the warm welcome of a family living room. In his research he discovered that the word traditionally translated as “inn” was really the word for the guest room in a peasant family home. Therefore, because the upstairs guest room was full, Mary and Joseph were invited to stay in the main living area with the family (most likely relatives), a warm place that also became home to the animals during the night. What this linguistic shift does is to radically change the birth narrative, so that hospitality, and not poverty or exclusion, becomes the heart of the Christmas story. Historical, critical, contextual, cultural criticism keeps scripture honest, and allows the Word of God to be immediate and alive.

2) Equally important in approaching the art of biblical interpretation is recognizing the thematic structure of scripture.

Thematic comprehension gives the eclectic books of the Bible a flow and a plot–always pointing to the overarching sovereignty of an extravagant God. So much conflict in the church is focused on nit-picky arguments about individual words or verses in scripture–a proof texting competition where no one comes out a winner. Justice, creation, stewardship, healing, resurrection, grace, and truth–again and again we see these thematic threads of God’s presence woven into sweeping historical narratives.

For me, the overarching theme of the Bible is Covenant–God’s utterly dependable and unconditional love for all Creation–an intimate relationship, and a choosing and a claiming that we, as creatures, cannot avoid. This amazing initiative of God then encourages our feeble attempt to covenant back with God. This covenantal bond is unbreakable, and it provides the promise, power, and possibility that give our life meaning. The covenantal sweep of God’s grace is breathtaking–from Adam and Eve, to Noah, to Abraham and Sarah, to Isaiah and Gomer, to Ezra and Esther, to Jesus, to Pentecost, to the early church, to the majestic culmination of the New Jerusalem in Revelation. Our tenacious God will not let us go, will not let us fail, and will not let us destroy ourselves or each other. This tenacity continues in the daily trials and triumphs of our 21st century living.
Such a grand historical sweep of covenantal history allows scripture to inspire, create, and empower that which is yet to come, and it raises us beyond and above the pettiness of our lives. It gives us hope and shape for our own living–calling us to covenantal faithfulness at every step of our spiritual journey–baptism, confirmation, membership, marriage, ordination, and vocation. Our promise-keeping God demands promise-keeping from us–and it is the fierce faithfulness and fidelity of God’s dependable love that gives us the courage and audacity to attempt this love in our own relationships.

For me, such a foundational understanding of covenant as the soil out of which all of scripture grows invites me to consider gay marriage in a different way. Marriage is primarily about covenant and call–a covenant of faithfulness and fidelity that forsakes all others, and a call to do the hard work and ministry of cherishing the other, no matter who. Therefore, marriage is not primarily about biology and sexual orientation. To deny two people of the same gender the theological and spiritual privilege of a marriage covenant is to deny the very heart of the spiritual life. Though individual verses in scripture can arguably be used to deny the holiness of same gender marriage, the overarching biblical theme of covenant trumps the pettiness of proof texting. Again and again, the great themes of scripture can liberate us for holy living.

3) Another principle that informs my love and fascination with the Bible is the reality that in many places scripture argues with itself.

We can use this seeming inconsistency as reason to deny the authority of scripture. Or we can understand that such complexity and multiple truths in scripture are the only way to figure out what is True. Jesus was the master of arguing with the very scripture that had both shaped him and called him. In opposition to the some of the teachings of the Torah and the prophets, Jesus healed on the Sabbath, forbade the stoning of the woman caught in adultery, ate with sinners, touched the leper and the hemorraghing woman, disturbed the sanctity of the Temple, and ultimately, through the crucifixion, transformed a warrior God into a wounded God. This very same preacher ignored the biblical teachings of his ancestors when he called for peacemaking, turning the other cheek, and forgiving our enemies. But then in a moment when he argues with himself, Jesus also tells his disciples that they must hate their father and their mother and their sister and their brother if they want to follow him. As my then teenage son wrote in the margins of his confirmation Bible, “Say what?”

My favorite example of scripture arguing with itself comes from the book of Isaiah in the 56th chapter. There the prophet paints a picture of the new Temple–a holy place built not of bricks and mortar, but instead of human lives living in community–a community defined by diversity, justice, and grace. This new Temple will welcome both the foreigner and the eunuch–two groups previously excluded from worship according to Levitical law. These outcasts will be given “a name that is better than sons or daughters.” And so, the new Temple will be–must be–a “house of prayer for all people.”

Such generous inclusivity is a radical rewriting of scripture and leaves us with the delightful dilemma of embracing a Holy Book full of contradictions. Because scripture argues with itself, we contemporary Bible lovers are called to eagerly continue the tradition by creatively and passionately arguing with scripture until the Holy Spirit leads us to a fresh revelation of the Truth.

4) Arguing with scripture can lead us to biblical creativity.

After traveling through ten cycles of the three-year lectionary and preaching hundreds of sermons, I am convinced that scripture can most powerfully be understood as metaphor–not doctrine or rules or regulations or theory. Metaphor invites us to wed mind and heart in the vivid work of imagination. It is this creative process of wonder that helps old words jump off dusty pages into the immediate whirlpool of everyday life.

Poetry, parable, visions, dreams, images–the most provocative scripture is rooted in the imagination and the reality of everyday life. Pearls, pigs, seeds, wine, coins, gates, wells, stones, wagon wheels, sparrows, eagles, boats, pillows, grass, waves, salt, yeast, light–it goes on and on. Dry teachings and tedious history suddenly come alive with a story or an image from ordinary life. And so it goes in weekly Bible Study. It is not the theory of atonement that gets the juices flowing. It is the vivid story of cross and pain and blood and earthquake. A theological conversation about forgiveness can be deadly but introduce the Prodigal Son, and the Prodigal Father, and the angry elder brother, and immediately the stories of jealousy, guilt, and grace come pouring out of people’s lives. “Teaching” the ethics of Christian life can create restlessness in the room, but talk about yeast and salt and light, about paying all the workers in the vineyard the same amount of money, of inviting hated Zaccheus to dinner, and immediately the challenge and demand of Christian living comes sharply into focus.

A focus on metaphor has gotten many liberal Christians into trouble because interpretation then goes beyond the printed words on the page. In the early 1990’s the Presbyterians were torn apart by the Re-Imagining Conference, an ecumenical women’s conference that used female images for God. Most egregious to critics was a worship service where the name Sophia was given to God. And yet, in the wisdom literature of Hebrew scripture that is exactly the name and quality given to God. Most biblical scholars connect the Sophia of Proverbs with the Logos of the Gospel of John, which is of course just another name for Jesus. And yet the metaphor of Sophia was demonized by conservative groups in the church causing ripples and rifts that continue to this day.

The use of image and metaphor is central to the wonder of scripture, demanding of the reader both playfulness and creativity, a use of imagination that is often threatening to those who depend upon rational answers, definitions, and laws. Thank goodness that Jesus was the master metaphor maker of all time, and he invites us to play with him.

5) Finally, it does not take much to move from metaphor to myth, the most dangerous biblical principle of all.

Great writers of many generations have lifted up the power of myth to shape human life and to heal human life–Joseph Campbell, Carl Jung, and John Dunne to name a few. A myth, as found in the holy writings of many traditions, is not factually true, but it is spiritually true. The imaginative writer and passionate Christian Madeleine L’Engle says this about myth:

In a world where skeptics abound and where many younger seekers are “spiritual, but not religious,” a generous understanding of scripture as myth and story and metaphor can build a bridge to a lost generation. When I served a congregation in Bethesda, Maryland, one mile from the National Institutes of Health, I found myself preaching and teaching to many Christian agnostics. I was able to interpret the creation stories as imaginative portraits of a sovereign, benevolent, personal God–that might be called “myth.” This approach invited those rational scientists to affirm the theory of evolution as fact, while digging deeper through mythic language for meaning, and for the Creator behind the Big Bang. For them the idea of myth opened the pages of scripture in a new way, inviting them to a more authentic reading of the Gospels and the liberating Good News of Jesus Christ.

And yet, a warning must be offered at this point. Looking at scripture as myth all too easily deteriorates into a simplistic notion of fantasy. Such reductionism undermines the credibility of scripture, and turns our free, surprising, Sovereign God into a cultural icon under our control, and serving our selfish, personal needs.

In a recent article (Pentecost 2012,” In the Thou Business,” Journal for Preachers, Volume XXXV, Number 4, page 21), Old Testament Professor Walter Brueggemann warns about the dangers perpetrated by both biblical fundamentalists and biblical progressives, dangers that can undermine the power and authority of scripture. On the one hand, we hear the arguments for rational, legalistic truth made strong by proof texting literalism. On the other hand, we hear self-centered humanism based on self-sufficiency, where any reality that the human mind cannot conceive or control must be denied. Both extremes–the fundamentalists and the progressives-share a need for certitude. However, certitude is the enemy of faith. Certitude shuts down the imagination, and denies the ever free and surprising sovereignty of a God who makes all things new.

Perhaps children can be the best teachers when it comes to “understanding” the Bible. At four or five years old, they are neither “fundamentalist” nor “progressive.” Instead they are creatures of wonder. Jerome Berryman has created a children’s biblical experience called Godly Play. Each week the “teacher” sits on the floor with the children. A simple bible story is told, not read. Each character or image in the story has a prop–a wooden bird, a blue satin cloth for the ocean, and a green velvet cloth for the grass, carved figures of real people dressed in colorful garb. As the story unfolds and the props are slowly and carefully placed, the children watch and listen quietly.

When the story telling is finished, the teacher then starts asking questions. “I wonder? I wonder? How did the lost sheep feel when the shepherd picked her up? I wonder? How did the children feel when Jesus took them up into his arms and blessed them? I wonder…” And then the children are given the props to play with, and they continue to tell the story in the imagination of their own lives.

Contextual, tangible history with themes of love, grace, and hope…Questions not answers…metaphor and image…aren’t these the work of play in the loving presence of the Living God?

Isn’t this what the Bible is meant to be for all us? Isn’t this the Good News of the Gospel? Isn’t this the call of our lives?

About the author

Susan Andrews wrote one article for this publication.

Susan Andrews is the General Presbyter of Hudson River Presbytery. Prior to this call, she served over thirty years in 4 parishes in Massachusetts, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland. In 2003, she was elected Moderator of the 215th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, USA–and traveled as the primary ambassador for the denomination during the following year. Susan holds degrees from Wellesley College, Harvard Divinity School, and McCormick Theological Seminary.

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