I remember playing with fire once when I was a kid.
Ok, I
did it more than once when I was a kid.
But I remember one time when it almost got
out of control. One day after the fourth of July a friend and I collected a pile
of unexploded firecrackers. The fuses had burned off but the firecrackers had failed
to explode. After trying a variety of methods to ignite them we decided to
build a fire, throw them in and wait for the bang. When that failed to happen
we decided to throw in the six or seven Bic lighters we had collected from
around my friend’s house. That’s when the real pyrotechnics began.
Although the fireworks never ignited, the lighters did!
Suddenly the lighters became fiery, molten plastic projectiles that were catapulted
out of the fire into the surrounding woods. In a matter of moments we were
confronted with a half dozen small fires that were in danger of burning out of control.
The woods were too far from the house, so the garden hose wouldn't reach. We
were forced to stamp out each individual fire before it spread too far. Whew!
In some ways I feel like I am in a similar situation over a
blog post I wrote in June for Pete Enns. I suppose I was playing with fire again.
The post was an attempt to explain my faith perspective as a
biblical scholar who encountered the complexity of the Bible, but still
maintains a strong faith in God. But instead what has happened is that some
have taken a small, yet significant portion of that post, and like those molten
plastic projectiles from my youth, have begun a number of small fires. Since I
can’t possibly stamp them all out, I will try to communicate here what I originally
said and some further thoughts about the portion that others have used to start
these fires.
In the original post, I describe an “aha” moment when I
realized that the Bible was different than I had understood it and that I was
going to need to change if I was going to accept the Bible on its own terms. I
talked about how I noticed that in Mark 2:23-27 Jesus uses, as a defense, a
story about David eating the bread reserved only for the priests and giving
some of it to his men. I noted how Jesus’ use of this story is at variance with what
is described in 1 Samuel 21 where, in my opinion, David is clearly alone and,
even more curious, Jesus mentions the wrong priest. 1 Sam 21 says that the name
of the priest was Ahimelek, but Jesus says it was Abiathar.
In my post I related how I noticed the discrepancy while
sitting in a Bible College class and that I pointed out to my teacher that “Jesus
got it wrong” and that “Mark has the wrong priest.” I was relating what was quite
a disturbing moment for young student of the Bible. I then continued on in the
rest of the post to explain my understanding of Scripture and how I approach
it.
While I received much positive feedback from those who could
identify with my “aha” moment, there have been some that have turned my post
into an argument over inerrancy (a word I never used) and have zeroed in on my
story about Mark 2:23-27. And those responses have become nothing more than a game
of shooting fish in a barrel.
The one response that has gone viral is from Craig Blomberg
on Michael Kruger’s blog “Canon Fodder.” Let me start by stating that I am not
picking a fight with him. I am honored that Blomberg responded to my post. I
have followed Craig’s work for years and cut my teeth on parables using his
book.
In his response Blomberg provides an alternative approach to
interpreting Mark 2:23-27 based on a translation of the Greek preposition “epi” and how synagogues read through the
entire Law every year (you can read the full explanation here). Blomberg is
critical of me for not saying more about the passage and wonders why I didn’t
give any other possible explanations (see my own explanation in the comment
section below).
Blomberg’s question about why I didn’t give any other
possible explanations is what bothers me about those responding to my post.
They have missed the point of the series. The point was not to have an
exegetical sparing match, but to talk about those moments when we were
thunderstruck. But more importantly, at least for me, it was to talk about
where I am at today.
Certainly I could have talked about other interpretations of Mark
2:26, but the purpose of the post was to talk about my personal faith as a
bible scholar who wrestles with the Bible. Indeed, the majority of the post was
about why I still believe in spite of some of the difficulties I have
encountered.
More importantly, for me, to talk about the nature of
scripture involves more than whether or not it contains “error.” My comments about the story in Mark 2 don’t
represent the sum of my approach to scripture. It’s that moment when I began to
realize I would need to change how I read and interpret it. I hope that those
he read our “aha” moment posts don’t conclude that an anecdote is the sum total
of all we think about scripture.
But let’s take a moment and address the “real” issue
everyone seems to find with my “aha” moment. It’s that I suggested that Jesus
got the name of the priest wrong. Those who take issue with my statement seem
to imply that I am suggesting that Jesus was therefore a fallible human being. Perhaps
they equate making a mistake with sin. I am not sure, but I suspect that is the
case.
It’s these kinds of assumptions that I think go right the heart
of our understanding Jesus’ humanity. What does it mean to say that Jesus, was
human? That he was God incarnate in human flesh? Does this mean that Jesus
never got confused and called one of the disciples by a different name? Or that
he forgot where he laid something? Did Jesus ever get so tired from travelling
and teaching that miscommunicated something? Did he ever make a mistake when
measuring a stone or a board? Did he ever hit his thumb with a hammer?
I am not sure, but I suspect that for some the idea of Jesus
making a mistake like those named above equates him with sinful humanity. Again,
I am not sure, but I think that is what they are thinking. I do not, however, understand
Jesus to be someone who, as a human, was incapable of making mistakes. Making a
mistake doesn’t make him sinful, it makes him human.
At the end of the day, I don’t know if Jesus “got it wrong”
or not. I wasn’t there and my only access to the story is through what Mark
tells me. My statement to my Bible College teacher was the realization of a
young man who saw something new and, at the time, quite shocking.
But I do think that the way the story is related in Mark 2
is at variance with what is presented in 1 Samuel 21. And that is where the
major difference lies between me and some others. I am able to accept a Bible
that doesn’t act the way I wish it did. I can accept a Bible that doesn’t always
lineup with history or even itself. And when I encounter a difficulty like Mark
2:26 my impulse is not to conclude that it’s wrong. But I also don’t feel the
need to explain it to fit my modern understanding of history. Sometimes I find
a very reasonable explanation and other times I realize there isn’t one. At
least not one that “fixes” the Bible to fit into the paradigm I have constructed.
At the end of the
day, I still consider the Bible the word of God. And it’s the mystery and the paradox
of the Bible that consistently draws me into it rather than drives me away.
I realize that there will be some who won’t accept this
explanation. And a short blog post could become another fiery projectile in the
blogosphere. But for those who are responding to the “aha” moments on Pete Enns’
blog I would ask that they consider the purpose of the posts rather than using
them as a chance to shoot fish in the inerrancy barrel.
There are many resources that I regularly recommend to my students. Among them is Craig Keener's Bible Background Commentary on the New Testament (IVP). Providing a chapter by chapter commentary of the New Testament, Craig helps readers to quickly discover what historical, cultural and religious factors may be at work in the text.