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A podcast episode based on a written reflection first posted to the Noticing Delight Substack.
Reading is interpreting. We know this more keenly than ever because we interpret all the time.
You receive an email announcing that you have won a cruise. You read just a bit of it and already you have done your interpretation. It is spam or a scam. You delete it or send it to your Junk Mail folder.
You read a news story and wonder if they have really got all their facts straight. Where is the news from? Is it the Globe and Mail or the National Post? NBC or Fox News? You interpret what you read or watch accordingly based on the source, on your beliefs, and probably a host of other things.
The same goes for novels, plays, movies, TV shows. You are reading or watching, and interpreting. All the time.
Reading the Bible isn’t any different. We don’t just read and get “the facts” or “the plain meaning.” Interpretation happens. One of the most important things to pay attention to is what we can call the narrative arc of Scripture.
When reading the Bible one really must enter the world of the story. We often zero in on something small, but we also must zoom out to take in the wideness and wonder.
We aim to resist proof-texting (quoting a single verse to just prove a point). Instead, we read one verse in light of another, a story in light of the law, a letter in light of a psalm, a series of proverbs in light of the book of Job and on and on.
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So knowing something about the overall arc of scripture is important for us as we interpret particular parts of Scripture.
When starting at the beginning, we discover that God created all that is and called it good. This seems to be as good a founding principle as anything. Creation is good, the animals are good, human beings are good. Then, there is a fall from original goodness. Things get twisted or distorted. And then, as we read forward in the story, there is a grand restoration.
We could see this narrative arc as life - death - new life, remembering always that there is an original goodness.
So, anytime we come up against a thought, or a whisper, or a hint of anything in all creation, and most especially humans (called images of the divine), being talked about as less-than, we know that this is simply not in line with the overall arc of Scripture that is emphatic about the high worth and goodness of all that has been created.
The arc of scripture points to prevenient grace, a technical term that basically means grace before anything else. God’s grace is not primarily seen as a response to some terrible thing that humans have done. It is not that the Almighty is waiting “up there” watching for us to slip up, to transgress, so He can decide suddenly at that point, to be gracious. No, God’s grace is THE starting point. God is gracious. God’s love is a constant: in good times and bad, when we get it right and when we get it wrong.
The overall arc of scripture points to creation and then re-creation. There is something new that God is doing.
It also points to God being all about justice and grace at the very same time. Justice and grace are not opposites in God’s way of doing things. They belong together.
The overall arc of scripture is not best communicated in concepts, but in story. This is why we might call it the narrative arc of Scripture.
There is a story of God with a particular people.
There is wandering in the wilderness, the experience of exile from home, and there is the jubilation of return.
There is a garden with a tree of life at the beginning and a broken relationship between God and humans, and then stories about gardens and a tree of life and the reconciliation of God and humans toward the end.
There is certainly far more that could be said about the narrative arc of Scripture, and in particular, what to do with the more challenging bits, but the important thing for us is that we enter into the narrative.
You see, we are shaped by story, and this particular story that keeps speaking, and keeps being re-told, has deep truth and deep wisdom. It is worth interpreting.
You enter this particular story and it becomes your story. Life - death - new life. Wandering in the wilderness, exile from home, the promised jubilation of return. Broken relationships and a loss of the ease of life in the garden, and a longing to find a way back.
A story of God who enters human life as a baby born in the most humble of circumstances, whose mother sings of the powerful being brought down from their thrones and lifting up of the lowly. A crucifixion, humiliation, and abandonment, and yet a resurrection and vindication.
You enter this story and let it shape you, more than all the competing stories out there. So interpreting this grand narrative, with all the stories, letters, poems, laws, prophecies, and sayings that it holds becomes quite important.
This Saturday, Nov 18 at 9:30am, I’m leading a workshop on imaginative interpretation of the Bible. It is in-person only, so if you are in Winnipeg and you’d like to come, just email me at [email protected]. Or, if you’d be interested in this workshop being on Zoom, email me and let me know.
Thanks for reading Noticing Delight! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
You can listen to the version audio or read the full reflection (transcript) below:
The fact that we hold this collection of books as sacred (or if you personally don’t, you may at least agree that there is deep ancient wisdom there), is enough to say that we may want to do our best to understand what the Bible is all about.
Interpreting the Bible can be challenging but, believe it or not, it can also be fun, and diving into understanding the bible through imaginative engagement with the stories, letters, poems and more that lie within its pages can be deeply rewarding, even life-changing.
On Saturday, Nov 18th, 2023 from 9:30 to 11:30, I will be offering a workshop on Interpreting the Bible Imaginatively. (In person only at 590 University Cres, Winnipeg) Email me if you plan to come!
The idea for this started when last year someone asked me about where ideas for some of my sermons come from. They were basically commenting on how they seemed to “get more out of it” when listening to a sermon about a particular text than when they would read the same text on their own.
This isn’t really that surprising. It is almost always better to be in a community setting when trying to understand the Bible (or any text). Also, I spend many hours on a given sermon, I went to seminary, and I have over twenty years of preaching experience.
At the same time, I really believe that there are things anyone can learn to help them in their understanding of the Bible, and one of the greatest things we can learn is how to read Scriptures while engaging our imaginations.
What do I mean by that?
Part of it is giving yourself permission. Permission to play with the text, to wonder, to ask questions, to focus in on specific images or words, and to focus out on the wider story arc, seeking connections with other parts of the Bible.
This is what we will learn and practice together at our little 2 hour workshop on Nov 18th, but for now, here’s a bit of a reflection on some of the challenges of this approach…
It can sometimes be hard to interpret scripture by using our imagination because we can feel hemmed in by a number of things. We may feel restricted by tradition, by particular teaching that is ingrained in us. We may feel constrained by certain concepts of God. We may have been taught that God absolutely must be this way or that way. We may feel trapped by particular philosophies, world-views, or pedagogies. For example, we may subtly believe that authority is never to be questioned, or we may believe the opposite: that no authority is to be trusted. We may somehow feel limited by the Bible itself. Shouldn’t we look at more than just scripture?
Or we may feel paralyzed by a lack of biblical knowledge and so we hesitate to jump in. For some of us, we have been taught not to trust ourselves, or that our thoughts or ideas do not have value, or are probably wrong. Or we don’t want to risk sharing something that we imagine coming from a biblical text for fear that we will sound stupid, or that others with more theological knowledge might shut us down or shame us. Maybe we’ve been shut down before.
Another reason it can be hard to interpret scripture imaginatively is because we have a sense that the Bible is sacred, and so to wrestle with it, question it, read against it at times, or play with it, might seem somehow irreligious or just plain wrong.
But, perhaps the most difficult barrier to interpreting scripture imaginatively is that many of us have all but lost our ability to imagine at all. We are more used to formulas, processes, techniques, and the application of critical methods. Of course, we can learn those tools as well and they can be of great help, but imagination is another matter, and is actually, for the average reader of the Bible, more readily available, and dare I say, more fun to employ.
When confronted with a story from the bible it might be very useful to ask “what is the historical context of this story?” We may even have a good study bible or commentary that can help us answer that. But we might not be as used to thinking to ourselves things like: “I’m going to pretend that I’m a shepherd and think about how I would feel or what I would do if an angel suddenly showed up in my field.”
This may not be the best example, but you get what I mean, I think. My point is that for some of us, somehow our imagination engaging with the text seems less legitimate than historical-critical knowledge. We have held some ways of knowing as the ONLY ways, and have often devalued and severely underused our imagination, to the point that we are hopelessly out of practice.
The imagination is relegated often to the realm of children alone, and many adults have forgotten how to use it. This is to our detriment, because without imagination, our engagement with such a diverse and complex set of books ranging in literary forms from poetry to letters, to narrative, to law codes, to parables, will always languish. Not only will we understand less about what the Bible is saying, but this most sacred text will feel further and further from us.
Engaging imaginatively with the Bible (and perhaps with anything) jumpstarts relevance and application. What I mean is that when you apply your imagination to a particular Biblical text, you are becoming invested. You are opening yourself up to what it might be saying to you.
So, perhaps you’ll join me, if you can on Nov 18th in the morning for a could have hours. We will actually look at some biblical texts and learn together about how to engage imaginatively with them. It would be helpful to me to know how many people to expect (for the purposes of snacks!), so please email me to let me know you’re coming.
Thanks for reading Noticing Delight! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
The fifth in a 5-part series for Advent/Christmas 2022.
He is born among us and is one of us. The incarnation.
God with us and with intent, with imagination and creativity. Bearer of hope, and peace, and joy, and love.
And so, we can be religious about the incarnation. As God came into the world and loved the place and people to which He came, we can do the same.
You can see the places you find yourself through God’s eyes. You can be incarnational about where you are.
The fourth in a 5-part series for Advent/Christmas 2022.
The final advent theme is Love. Love is so central. It is at the core of who we are as human beings. We naturally love. Think of parents, children, grandchildren, wives, husbands, true friends.
And our faith takes us further with love.
Over and over we are asked to give ourselves to love. To be religious about it. To let our love reflect divine love.
As we move toward Christmas, we glimpse once again God with is. Love incarnate. Love itself in human form, for God is love.
The third in a 5-part series for Advent/Christmas 2022.
What if joy was something you could simply choose?
We tend to think joy is something that happens to us. It isn’t in our control. We would love to feel joyful, but that is really hard to do day in and day out. Is it the same as just being happy all the time? No, not really.
So, what would it mean to be religious about joy?
To say yes to joy, to make joy part of the pattern of our life. To give ourselves over to joy...
The second in a 5-part series for Advent 2022.
Being religious about something is about devotion, it’s about commitment. It is about staying the course even when you don’t feel like it. We are compelled to stay with it. We’ve made it our religion, and ours is a religion of peace.
War is rampant, but we claim peace.
Jesus claimed “Blessed are the Peacemakers” and declared that they would be called the children of God. On Sunday, we share peace with one another. It is a sign of having reconciled relationships. Of a healing between us.
Peace is far more than an end of war. It isn’t about tolerating each other. It is things being set right. How they truly ought to be. It is a massive concept in the scriptures. The Hebrew word Shalom is peace, healing, wholeness, salvation. And we are people of this shalom.
The first in a 5-part series for Advent/Christmas 2022.
Getting religious about hope is not about being unrealistic or having some pie-in-the sky, everything will always be totally fine attitude. Religiously hoping means a full on acknowledgment of life in all its mess, brokenness, and still we fend off cynicism. We lament, but we don’t despair. We don’t just “hope everything gets a bit better soon.” We go bigger than that. We hope for complete renewal. We hope for reconciliation. We hope for a new heaven and a new earth...
"From now on you will be catching people" - Jesus says this to his followers and it does not sound positive at all. Catching people? So, the job of people who follow Jesus is to go and "catch" others? Trap them? Trick them into something? I'm going to just say NO to all of that, but also say that when Jesus said this, there was something far more going on (no surprise - it's Jesus!).
Matt welcomes AJ Sherrill for a conversation around a book that has one of the most amazing sub-titles of all time! - Being With God: The Absurdity, Necessity, and Neurology of Contemplative Prayer. AJ is the Lead Pastor at St. Peter's Church in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina and is an adjunct professor at Fuller Theological Seminary, where he teaches popular courses on transformational preaching and the Enneagram. Visit is website at https://www.ajsherrill.org/
From the publisher's feed