N., as I have already said, was a man who read his Bible. That was what was the matter with him. When will people understand that it is useless for a man to read his Bible unless he also reads everybody else’s Bible? A printer reads a Bible for misprints. A Mormon reads his Bible, and finds polygamy; a Christian Scientist reads his, and finds we have no arms and legs.
N. was an old Anglo-Indian Protestant soldier. Now, just think what that might mean; and, for Heaven’s sake, don’t cant about it. It might mean a man physically formidable living under a tropic sun in an Oriental society, and soaking himself without sense or guidance in an Oriental Book.
Of course, he read the Old Testament rather than the New. Of course, he found in the Old Testament anything that he wanted — lust, tyranny, treason. Oh, I dare say he was honest, as you call it. But what is the good of a man being honest in his worship of dishonesty?
GK Chesterton, The Sign of the Broken Sword
Reflection – Leaving aside GKC’s regrettable prejudice
(typical, alas, for an Englishman of his day) against the cultures and
civilizations of Asia, this little bit of Brown-ian wisdom really pertains to
the whole question of how we read the Bible, how we read it wrongly, and how we
are to read it rightly.
‘It
is useless to read your Bible unless you read everyone else’s Bible’.
Chesterton really has a way of putting very complex matters into pithy little
epigrams. This is precisely the mind of the Catholic Church regarding
Scripture. We read it, not as isolated individuals getting bits and pieces of
random sense out of it as we can, but as a community of believers united in a
common reading guided by a common faith.
It
is fashionable these days, among the New Atheists, to take all the cruel bits
and pieces of the Bible—and there are many of them—and parade them around as
proof of what a horror religion is, and particularly the Christian religion.
The practice of haram warfare, where
all living creatures from babies at the breast to animals in field are slaughtered
to the last one, the death of the first-born in Egypt, the sacrifice of
Jephthah’s daughter—if you want horror, the Bible can deliver horror.
And
if you are simply reading ‘your Bible’ and no one else’s, you may come to any
kind of conclusion about all that. In the story quoted above, the sad character
concludes that cruelty and vice are acceptable to God; for the New Atheists,
the conclusion is that religion is evil nonsense.
Catholics
read their Bible as part of a community of believers who extend 2000 years into
the past (Sacred Tradition) and across the entire world in the present (the sensus fidelium), and who gather in
their reading around a divinely mandated authority (the magisterium of bishops
under the Pope). And the Catholic reading of this whole complex messy book is
thus remarkably nuanced, thoughtful, careful, and yields profundity of insight
and depth of reflection such as a New Atheist would not dream possible.
While
it is far too much to go into the whole thing in a blog post, our basic
Catholic sense is that we read all the earlier Scriptures through the later
ones, and elevate the four Gospels in particular as the interpretive key to the
entire Bible. The Old Testament is fundamentally the story of humanity—messy,
mixed-up, ugly-beautiful, good-bad, chaotic, tumultuous, passionate, violent,
lusty, hungry, hopeful, despairing humanity—met at each turn by this most
mysterious God who only gradually reveals Himself to them in full.
The
earlier parts of the Old Testament—haram warfare, etc.—are a very incomplete
and poor revelation of this God. The later parts—the late prophets with their
extension of God’s promises to all the nations, for example—are a more complete
one.
But
it is the Gospel revelation of Jesus Christ that gives the right sense and
proper meaning to every bit of the Scriptures, and we have 2000 years of
comprehensive sweeping commentary and lectio divina on just how this is done,
from the most horrific tales of violence to the most obscure precepts of the
Mosaic Law. In Christ, and only in Christ, do we read these and understand
anything of what they mean here and now.
So
that is the Bible of Fr. Brown, and of Chesterton, and of myself, too (not that
that matters much). And that is our answer to that aspect of the New Atheist
critique of religion.
Umm.
ReplyDeleteWell, perhaps, there is a little more to say in response to the "new atheist critique of religion" .
Maybe, the problem is not so much abandoning the "sensus fidellium" but not entering into it deep enough. Scripture is not a thing, an object, an external reality. The Word of God is being itself, the truth in each one of us. Atheists exist in God, just as Christians do- they just do not call the ground of their being God- if they call it anything at all. This is where a dialogue with them might begin.
I have read a little of Hitchens and Dawkins. There are some things I find myself agreeing with. But, the big trouble I have with them is the God they do not believe in is I God I have never believed in. So, I really do not include myself in the group of "believers: they attack.
Perhaps, in the chaos of their writing there is something of me they criticize- perhaps rightfully. The part of myself that wants to use God only to soothe my own anxieties or when I want to use the scripture as a club to beat those with whom I disagree.
The answer to all that has to be be- not a clearer idea or a more correct interpretation..but a deeper trust, a more pure love, a more complete giving of self. Going deeper, past the polemics.
The temptation in the face of the chaos- is to hang on to the bible as if it were a reductive, rigid form of literalism. Perhaps, this new form of passionate, doctrinal rigidity actually gave birth to the backlash of militant atheisms we are currently experiencing?
I don't know.
I jsut pray that God will open my heart and my mind when I read scripture.
Bless you