The Elephant in the Room

 

I had a defining moment in the shower this morning. A lot of my defining moments come when I’m in the shower, probably because that’s one of the few places I’m not engaged in some project or on my way to the next one, and my mind has a chance to catch up with my body.

Last week I finished the first draft of a book, and I’m in the process of submitting a proposal to a publisher. In filling out the publisher’s form, I’m asked for an annotated Table of Contents—basically, summarizing the book in a few sentences, chapter by chapter.

With hot water relaxing my neck and shoulders, and with shampoo stinging my left eye, I pondered how to compose that annotated Table of Contents, and it came to me that, in developing the argument of the book, I had found in the Judeo/Christian Scriptures, and particularly in the Hebrew Scriptures, what amounts to two distinct G(g)od images, each incompatible with the other; indeed, diametrically opposite. If I’m totally honest with myself and with my understanding of the Scriptures, there simply is no reasonable way to combine or meld the two G(g)od images.

The idea is like the proverbial “Elephant in the room” metaphor: the important or enormous topic, question, or controversial issue that is obvious or that everyone knows about but no one mentions or wants to discuss because it makes at least some of them uncomfortable and is personally, socially, or politically embarrassing, controversial, inflammatory, or dangerous.[1]

But there is a rational explanation. Preeminent scholar of Hebrew Scripture, Walter Brueggemann, says the Scriptures, in large part, are presented in the form of the rabbinic testimony/counter-testimony[2] approach to theological study and discussion. Differing, and even contradictory concepts were presented and discussed, and the minutes of some of the meetings were recorded in what eventually would become canonized as Holy Writ. Throughout the Scriptures, within that process there is consistent resolution of conflicting G(g)od images.

In my research for the book, I discerned a parallel explanation and arrived pretty much at the same conclusion as Brueggemann. My terminology is “trajectory.” The terminology is not original with me. I discovered it in the writings of Derek Flood;[3] although, I accept responsibility for the way I engage and apply the idea. There is a primary trajectory within the overall corpus of Hebrew writings that describes the intentions and purposes of God (YHWH) as implied in creation, codified in the Abrahamic covenant, and reinforced in the prophets, all of which leads to and prepares the way for the incarnation, the fulfillment of God’s intentions and purposes in Jesus of Nazareth. The Gospel witness to the life and teachings of Jesus becomes the lens through which we look; through which that primary trajectory of love and grace becomes clear.

But there is a secondary trajectory. Actually, it’s not a single trajectory, but rather a collection of various deviations from the primary trajectory. These deviations consistently project a god image that reflects values of the conquest cultures and pagan religions that surrounded Israel and impersonated YHWH throughout Israel’s history. This god image is vindictive and brutal and is the direct opposite of YHWH as reflected in the end of the primary trajectory of Hebrew Scripture. Again, the two G(g)od images are incompatible. There simply is no way to rationalize that they are the same G(g)od. We have to choose one or the other.

Does this suggest that an inerrant Bible has lumps in the gravy? No; it suggests that inerrancy is a human ideal inflicted erroneously (sic) on an inspired and honest witness to a maturing human comprehension of the nature of the God of creation and of Abraham’s seed. The Bible accurately reports, usually in symbol and metaphor, both the times God’s people got it right and the times they got it wrong. So, how do we know the difference? How do we know which G(g)od image to choose? “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith...” (Hebrews 12:1-2).

Jesus sums up the intentions and purposes of God by quoting the Jewish credo, the Shema: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might” (Deuteronomy 6:5) and then he adds, “love your neighbor as yourself” (Numbers 19:18). And he says, “All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” Repeat: “All the Law and the Prophets!” Is there any part of “all” that’s difficult to understand? Anything that contradicts the idea of loving God, neighbor, and self is not consistent with the primary trajectory of Judeo/Christian Scripture as incarnated in Jesus of Nazareth.

The Bible isn’t in error when it reports Israel’s erroneous understandings of the nature and intentions of YHWH. Indeed, the more aware I become of the Bible’s honesty in presenting a community's struggles to be faithful to the G(g)od image they understand within the limitations of the clay of which they are made, the closer I am able to identify with the message of the primary trajectory of their witness. There is value in the struggle. There is only one God; however, we humans are united in our common struggle to believe the unbelievable, to comprehend the incomprehensible, to embrace and celebrate the mystery of the God who cannot be contained or domesticated by any of our human G(g)od images, but who is revealed fully in the life of a simple carpenter from Nazareth.

That’s the way it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

[1] Cambridge University Press. (2009). Cambridge academic content dictionary, p. 298.

[2] Walter Brueggemann, Brevard S. Childs, Old Testament Theology: Canon or Testimony (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1979, 1997, 2023) pp. 96-97, Kindle Edition.

[3] Derek Flood, Disarming Scripture: Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence-Loving Conservatives, and Why We All Need to Learn to Read the Bible Like Jesus Did (San Francisco: Metanoia Books, 2014).