Editor’s note: This was originally published in Paul’s own blog, Sparks and Ashes.
For starters, this isn’t a post about poorly read Christians.
I recently stumbled across Eric Metaxas’ Fox News rant lamenting the sorry state of Scripture knowledge in the media (“Does Anyone in The Media Ever Read The Bible?“). Among other things, Metaxas is peeved with a recent flub by the NY Times. The gaffe credited W.B. Yeats with a quote modified from the Book of Hebrews – “Be not inhospitable to strangers, lest they be angels in disguise.”
To shorten a longish story, the quote is not original to Yeats, it was widely circulated by the press before the mistake was caught, and now everybody in Metaxas’ “middle America” (is that a thing now?) is grouchy about how bad the media is at reading Holy Writ. A subsequent correction by the Times was insufficient to calm things down.
Metaxas uses the situation (and a similar lyrical flub by rigorous biblical fact-checker Willie Nelson) as the latest evidence that the media and “Hollywood celebrities” are proving increasingly deficient in “basic Sunday School knowledge.”
While this is probably true, I think that reacting with slack-jawed astonishment at these and similar mistakes is a waste of time, as is finding it another opportunity to indignantly lament our culture’s slide to Sodomic destruction occasioned by the abandonment of cultural Christianity.
Instead, I think it’s an opportunity for believers and non-believers alike to pause for a moment and consider what and how the Bible contributes to our creative culture. This is a huge topic, far beyond my abilities to trace in a blog post. Really though, the root question here is pretty simple, and comes in two parts. First, how does the Bible contribute its wisdom, imagery, and language to a/our culture. Secondly, in what ways do we consider the Bible “static” literature, and in what ways do we consider it “living” literature?
Two Contributions
When I pick up my tattered copy of the English Bible, I see it as a single book that contributes to my life in two distinct ways.
The first is as the mysterious, God-breathed Word, the book that my pastors expound for my growth and encouragement on Sundays; a rambling, epic collection of poems, stories, songs, histories, letters, fictions, prophecies, apocalypse, and teaching. As a follower of Jesus, this book for me is divine revelation second only to the incarnate God-man, a written Word that parallels and complements the living one. As I draw life from this magnificent book, I share something common to all the people of God who have met him in its pages.
But there’s another way that Scripture contributes to my life. I also look at my Bible as a vastly important work of literature. It is the perennial world bestseller, and (especially in English) the most influential fountainhead of our language and literary heritage. It’s influence on Western letters is incalculable. It has been quoted and alluded to endlessly. It’s a mighty literary shout that only echoes louder as the centuries pass.
I have to be very careful to not conflate these two contributions the Bible makes to my life, and here is why. If I examine the use of Scripture by someone who is accessing it as literature, and hold them to the same careful standard of exegetical excellence that I demand of my pastor, things won’t turn out well. I will be at least disappointed, at middling, quite grouchy, and at worst, infuriated and ready to do violence. This isn’t fair, either to Scripture or those accessing it.
This Beautiful Chaos
Scripture offers rich language, imagery, and rhythm for artists and intellectuals, but of course not all of that influence comes directly from its pages as a primary source. The Bible they are accessing is the Bible of literature, and their exposure to it has probably come as much from Steinbeck, Bunyan, and Flannery O’Connor as from the Bible itself. Those allusions still belong to modern creatives, because as soon as they left the pages of Scripture to be woven in story, song, and film, they became something related to Scripture, but no longer Scripture itself. If we ignore the rich tapestry of Scripture in its original context, then that’s legitimately our loss. But the words and images of the Bible have a life of their own, apart from the Bible, as part of an artistic tradition that is supremely messy, chaotic, and joyous. Milton’s Satan is not the Bible’s Satan. Robert Johnson’s Satan is neither the Bible’s Satan, nor Milton’s Satan, but both, and with something added.
This growing and beautiful chaos is the difference between living and static literature. For me in my church’s pew, the Bible as literature is “static,” not in the spiritual sense (nothing could be more alive), but in the same way that Latin, or Koine Greek is static. It’s not developing. It’s “dead.” I don’t believe that the body of written revelation will grow.
But the Bible as cultural heritage is vibrantly alive, in the sense that it grows, changes, and evolves. It’s unpredictable. In this sense, when Nick Cave shares a genius lecture titled “The Flesh Made Word,” I don’t call for torches and pitchforks, or cluck my tongue at him for misquoting John 1. He’s developing John 1. He’s adding something to our culture that is deeply, inextricably rooted in Scripture. It’s imagery and power could not exist without Scripture. But it’s different. It’s new. It’s a living contribution to the developing heritage of the Bible in our arts. He’s not claiming that what he made with the Bible’s words is divinely inspired. He’s not preaching. And that’s perfectly fine. I’m still rather enthralled, and grateful that I get to hear echoes of the book that I love so much coming from one of the great storytellers of the 20th century.
Go, and Do Likewise
In all fairness to Metaxas, I agree that the Times should have been more careful in checking their sources. But seriously, even the best news writers make mistakes. Big deal. As for Willie Nelson, who ever said that he was even referencing the Temptation stories of the gospels? Perhaps the development was an intentionally incorrect allusion. Perhaps it was just a mix up by a kindly, pot-addled American icon. Either way, both “mistakes” are a testimony to the Bible’s status as living literature, an infinitely limbed body of word and image that is rivaled by nothing in Western culture, perhaps nothing in human culture.
Eric signs off his article by remarking “…if I had one wish for American (sic) in 2012, I wish that we would get to know the Bible better.” I share his sentiment wholeheartedly. Hollywood, New York, go read your Bibles. You won’t do any bigger favor to your creative imagination or the health of your souls.
But let me add that I am profoundly honored by having my beloved scriptures quoted–even if occasionally misquoted–as part of the growing cultural dialogue of my nation and hemisphere. The Bible is echoing louder than ever for those who have ears to hear. I’m so glad that in this small way, the yeast is leavening the whole lump.
So, I’m taking a deep breath, and thinking carefully about my personal and creative relationship to the Bible.
Now, go thou and do likewise.
