Guest Blogger Series: Mark Douglas and the BIBLE
Guest Blogger Series: Part 10 
by Mark Douglas
During a busy academic conference, I sit in on one of my favorite AAR groups, the Society for Scriptural Reasoning. The main idea of the group is that Jews, Christians, and Muslims gather together and read each other’s texts, having them interpreted for us by those who profess that faith’s text but open to the inquiries and thoughts of those from other faiths. It’s a provocative way to do inter-religious dialogue-a way that simultaneously honors the integrity of each tradition and opens the traditions to each other. Many of the folks in SSR are friends; a couple are mentors. And one of the great things about SSR is that it’s a chance to do some heavy intellectual lifting without quite as much self-promotion as you find in some other academic groups. Anyway, we’re sitting in small groups doing our thing when a Jewish friend makes a comment about a passage from 2 Timothy that we’ve been looking at. Pow! The text becomes scripture as my Bible surprises me. Next thing I know, I’m eye-deep in a fresh vision of the practicality of 2 Timothy 3:16.
I’m sitting in worship (which, between teaching in a seminary and having a wife who is a pastor, I tend to do a lot of), kind of half-attending to what’s going on (which I also tend to do a lot of for the same reasons) when something odd strikes me about the text, which is out of 1 Chronicles, of all places! Bam! A Bible-whack to the side of the head and a sudden stream-of-consciousness project forms in my mind about how I’ll teach an ethics class that next hour-and now I’ve got ½ hour to re-prepare the already nicely-prepared-but-clearly-no-longer-adequate class.
I’m reading one of my favorite theologians writing on one of his favorite topics when that theologian says something almost tangential to the topic. Whap! All of a sudden, I’ve got the last two verses of the last book of the Bible to deal with again-and the tension between an original ending that isn’t an ending (“Come, Lord Jesus!”) and a second ending that is one (“Amen.”) becomes a trope for investigating how Christians understand their place in time.
That’s more than enough. You get the picture: my Bible on a bungee and me with various bruises of the absolute best kind. And here are three observations about these contusion-causing events: First, and rather unsurprisingly, the farther I get from it, the more it shocks me when it comes whipping at me. Second, the more these Bible-slaps happen, the more provocative and illuminating their results. I’m always a slightly different (and hopefully richer) reader after such an event than I was before. And third, the most surprising things happen when I don’t enter the situation thinking I’m supposed to read the Bible in a certain way (devotionally, via historical-critical lenses, for pastoral care content, as an ethicist, etc.). So now I make fewer assumptions about how I’m supposed to read it or what its benefits will be. Which is, I suppose, the way a Christian opposition to works-righteousness applies to reading the Christian text. I imagine those three observations are related-and that they have to do with the always shocking quality of a revelation that is always about more than texts but never entirely disconnected from texts. And I guess that’s what you get when there’s a bungee on your Bible.
Mark Douglas is the Associate Professor of Christian Ethics at Columbia Theological Seminary. Mark’s interests include ethics in neo-orthodox theologies, medical and business ethics, the American philosophical tradition of pragmatism, and the role of religion in political philosophy. He’s also pretty good at frisbee golf. Mark co-edits an online journal for congregations on theology, church, and culture found called At This Point.
Guest Blogger Series: Elin Ljung and the BIBLE
Guest Blogger Series: Part 8
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An exercise in anthropomorphism
The Bible is a heavy book. Unless you carry a pocket-sized Bible (and have incredible vision), pretty much any Bible will be heavy-heavy to hold, heavy to carry, heavy so that it makes a satisfying thump when you set it on a desk. The Bible is so heavy that it must have tissue-thin pages in order to fit them all in without breaking human limbs. These tissue pages rattle loudly in a hushed sanctuary, especially to a restless child. How clearly I remember the cold seeping dread that suffused me each time my careless page-flipping tore one of those pages, just a little, near the spine.
When I think of the Bible, I imagine it as a weary book. Its weariness comes in part, of course, from its heaviness. A shelved Bible must support its whole weight on the bottom edges of its cover, hopefully one of the hardback variety. An opened Bible must support the weight of the reader’s prayers. I can imagine that the most terrified of Bibles are those that lie open on lecterns at the fronts of churches. What an immense weight-the collective pressure of an entire congregation listening, of that grouped dependence. Probably only the really big, ancient Bibles feel comfortable with that position, the ones illuminated by monks.
I imagine that Bibles are jealous of other books. The Bible has just as much beautiful imagery and just as many fascinating stories as a reasonable selection of classic fiction, but nobody ever just reads the Bible. They always read the Bible. It seems to me akin to how Ryan Giggs must feel* if he ever wants a pint: the people from whom he orders the pint will never think of him as just a bloke who wants a pint. He’s Ryan Giggs. I would think that might start to wear after a time.
But I do think the Bible must enjoy being analyzed, being pulled apart and interpreted and argued over. It just must be tickled to death to see students wound into a corner over what made Abraham a true believer, or over what indeed it was the St. Paul meant in this epistle as opposed to that other one. If Bibles ever rejoice, I imagine they do it when people look for more than the face value of their words, or when they remember that the Bible they’re reading might come in as many versions as there are scholars who translate it.
Heaviest of all to the Bible must be the knowledge of all the wars fought, all the evils done, all the crimes committed in its name. The Bible and the Koran must sit around commiserating with each other every so often, just to let each other know they’re not alone. After all, pretty much the worst that happens to other books is censorship or burning, not so much war.
But then, after all, pretty much the best that happens to other books is a brief rush of fame on the bestseller list-fleeting. But the Bible’s heavy weight inspires reverence, conversion, devotion, and simple kindness. I imagine the Bible might like that.
Guest Blogger Series: Emily Martin and the BIBLE
Guest Blogger Series: Part 6
This is the sixth post in my guest blogger series on the Bible. To see all the Bible posts in one window click here.
Purses, Prisons, Picky Reading and Pastoral Care
by Emily Martin
I have a wee (to use Adam’s favorite adjective) zip-up Bible that I keep in my purse, so I have it is when I make home or hospital visits. I got in the habit of using my Bible in pastoral visits while working at a women’s prison last summer. Sometimes, especially in the infirmary, I would visit with women who either couldn’t read well or didn’t have a Bible with them, so I got in the habit, before I would pray, of asking them if they had any favorite scripture passages they’d like for me to read.
Psalm 23 and 91 were favorites, and I often liked to read from Psalm 139 or Romans 8 or John 14 or Isaiah. One woman I visited repeatedly asked me to read from Revelation 20-22. The first couple of times, I practiced selectively reading the comforting parts, skipping over all the parts about the lake of fire and eternal suffering. Later though, my supervisor challenged me on my selective reading, so I tried reading the verse about how all murderers, fornicators, gossip, etc. that would end up in the lake of fire, and she stopped me mid-sentence. “That’s it, that’s what they’ve been saying to me. That I’m a murderer and I’m going to Hell. Am I going to Hell or will God forgive me?” This “undesireable” scripture passage became the vehicle for confession and a chance to share the good news of God’s forgiving love. It became a chance to share some other scripture passages about God’s forgiveness and desire to save anyone who repents and believes.
I’ve tried to keep up this practice of scripture reading, especially when visiting people in the hospital. Sometimes it doesn’t feel right, so I just pray with them. But I like having a bit of scripture read out loud before I pray. I feel that it guides my prayers in a way that is helpful for me and for the other person.
Mostly, my wee bible gets used when I’m preparing for Bible studies with the homeless (weekly) or the elderly (monthly) or Sunday school or when I’m preparing sermons or the liturgy each week. Occasionally, I’ll pull it out when a random church member asks me where such and such verse is. I have a little insert from the Scottish Bible Society that I picked up in Glasgow which lists a lot of commonly sought after verses, stories, prayers, etc.–that comes in handy too. The only catch is that the print in my wee bible is so small that I’m about the only one that can read it, and then only if the light is decent. The good thing is that the zippered cover keeps it from being demolished in the black hole/chaos of my purse.
Emily Martin is a senior in the MDiv program at Columbia Theological Seminary. She is currently completing a yearlong internship at Government Street Presbyterian Church in Mobile, Alabama. She’s currently busy planning Urban Mission Camps, week-long urban mission experiences for youth groups and invites you to their website here.
Guest Blogger Series: Rebekah Abel Lamar and the BIBLE
Guest Blogger Series: Part 4
This is the fourth post in a guest blogger series on the Bible. To see all the Bible posts in one window click here.
Year of the Bible
by Rebekah Abel Lamar
Decatur Presbyterian Church has named 2008 the “Year of the Bible.”
“That’s funny,” you might say, “Shouldn’t every year be the Year of the Bible?” Well, yes, but this year is different. This year our church has taken on the challenge of reading through the Bible by the end of the year. About a third of our members have committed themselves to this task. The pastors have left the lectionary in order to preach from the texts that people are reading each week. Six new Bible study opportunities began this month to go along with the effort, and a Year of the Bible family devotional guide has been distributed.
These programs are great, and programming is a huge part of what I do. However, the reason that the Year of the Bible is so exciting is not anything I can program. It is less planned and less defined. It is a family reading the Bible together, the youth showing off her brand new Bible, the young professional reading the Bible on his blackberry on work trips, the stay-at-home mom looking forward to her Bible reading at the end of a long day, the elder opening his meetings with devotions from his readings, the retired couple reading scripture aloud to one another after dinner each night. It is also the conversations and questions about the Bible that are happening inside and outside of the church daily.
I have been excited about it for months and the response has been better than I ever hoped for. However, there is a question that routinely gnaws at the back of my mind:
How will the Year of the Bible change our church?
It is a question that scares me, really. For all the planning I have done, I really have no idea what the results of the Year of the Bible will be. What I do know is that the Bible is a radical book which calls people to do radical things and that it could change us in ways that I don’t expect and may not like.
So, I have stopped praying for the program to go well. I think I prayed this when I foolishly assumed that I had something to do with the outcome. Now I am just praying that we have the courage to follow where it leads us.
Rebekah Abel Lamar is Director of Christian Education at Decatur Presbyterian Church in Decatur, Georgia. You can find a pdf of their Year of the Bible readings on their website.
Guest Blogger Series: Erika Funk and the BIBLE
Guest Blogger Series: Part 2 
This is the second post in a guest blogger series on the Bible.
My Bible hurts…and heals
by Erika Funk
My Bible hurts.
It hurts when I throw it across the room and it hits young people in the face.
It hurts when someone tells me “my Bible” is wrong.
It hurts when something I was sure I understood suddenly becomes very unclear.
My Bible hurts my head and my heart.
But sometimes the Bible heals.
The faith community I live in now, Broad Street Ministry in Philadelphia has a weekly bible study called No Holds Barred, run by our Dean for the Center for Subversive Theology. So already you can tell it’s different.
Because we are located in the heart of downtown Philadelphia and we serve food whenever we gather, we get all kinds of people who wander in for Bible Study…and for all kinds of reasons. Which if we’re going to be honest, isn’t much different than any church Bible Study from Anchorage to Ayr. We all come with our “bibles” in our brains; we come with the tapes in our heads from former Bible teachers and pastors and we all come with bruises from when someone threw their bible at us. We’ve learned too well to duck when something dangerous comes our way (like the gospel) and to re-load and re-launch our rhetoric when we see a breach in someone’s theological fortification.
Having seen some of this biblical bruising and scriptural scarring, our C4ST Dean created some ground rules for the No Holds Barred Bible Study. We call them table manners. One of the rules is no one knows it all, your thoughts and questions are welcome.
Recently, we were studying a passage from Isaiah and got into a discussion about the New Jerusalem and wondered together what that meant, where it is, when we are likely to see it. Rather than leading an exegesis on the historical understandings of the biblical concept of “New Jerusalem” we thought it through together, as homeless, student, professional, worker, and teacher. Michael, one of our regulars at BSM, said he thought he’d found New Jerusalem right here. Michael is a 60+ years-old, well educated, formerly homeless man who speaks 12 different languages, once worked for the U.N. and was raised Jewish. He now lives in a permanent residence run by a wonderful organization called the Bethesda Project. I asked where he sensed this New Jerusalem. He said here at Broad Street Ministry. So I asked what markers he saw that displayed to him that this was the New Kingdom, a place of God’s continual presence. To him, he said, it was the way we didn’t tell him what to think, we didn’t tell him what he had to believe. Instead, we said “invite your neighbor to dinner”. He heard, “come join us at the table and be who you are and have a cup of coffee.” That was to Michael evidence of God’s Kingdom on earth.
My Bible hurts when the unexpected joy of its truth pierces my hardened heart and fills it with grace.
Erika Funk is the Youth Initiative Minister at Broad Street Ministry in Philadelphia. Check out their fantastic ministry and contact Erika for information on youth mission experiences and Broad Street Ministry.
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