I’ve been a part of the Christian Church all of
my life. I’ve watched how things work within the
faith, and I’ve been particularly fascinated by
the ways we Christians use and abuse the New
Testament.
The
New Testament - the uniquely Christian part of
the Bible - is a messy collection of books and
letters. No one can be absolutely sure what
parts are important and what parts are the
cultural containers that hold the important
parts. In First Timothy, Paul instructs Timothy
to drink wine regularly to help with his stomach
problems. It seems unlikely that this should be
understood as a universal command for all
Christians throughout the centuries. And I’m not
aware of any church that treats that passage in
such a way.
Not that a glass of wine at night isn’t a
splendid idea and something I might like to
suggest for some of my more “intense”
brothers and sisters.
So
from the start, we have a collection of
documents that is unclear and can be difficult
to interpret and understand. That’s a good thing
to know before we go any further.
From what I’ve seen, only very serious
Christians take the time to actually read the
New Testament for themselves. This collection of
sacred writings taxes scholars, so it is
certainly a challenge for everyday people. We do
the best we can, but no one can understand all
of the New Testament. And even those who have
read the whole thing will have forgotten most of
it by the following Tuesday. The New Testament
is too much to hold in your mind.
What most Christians do is read selections of
the New Testament, usually in a haphazard manner
over a period of years. They pick out the parts
that seem important or relevant to them and
focus mainly on those selected scriptures. Most
people get guidance in this selection process
from whatever Christian tradition they follow.
Pentecostals from Georgia find some parts of the
New Testament particularly compelling.
Episcopalians in Boston might focus on other
parts.
But
we all share this in common: we
pick and choose scriptures, cobbling together
something we call a theology. The word theology
literally means “God words,” and a theology is a
series of belief statements about God and Jesus
and how Christians ought to live.
Now
it is true that a few extraordinary Christians
over the years have tried to understand and
organize everything in the New Testament. Some
have created great, hulking volumes of
systematic theology that no normal person could
ever read or understand. But trying to create a
systematic theology is rather like a physicist
trying to come up with a unified theory of
everything. It’s a great idea, but so far no one
has been able to pull it off in a way that
satisfies everyone
If what I’ve written makes you angry,
please note that I’m being descriptive. I’m
simply describing what I have seen. If you
know of a monk-like person who sat on a
pillar for 40 years, can quote the entire
New Testament from memory, and has now
perfectly integrated all of it into his
theology and life, then your exception is
duly noted. Good for you, and good for your
monk friend.
So
our little slanted, incomplete, biased, and
selective theologies are the best we can do.
Given how our theologies are formed, it’s a
constant wonder to me that people are surprised
and even angered when they meet someone whose
ideas about God differ from their own. I’d be
more surprised if I met someone who shared my
own beliefs, point by point, all the way to the
end. Now that would be strange.
Oh,
and there is one other thing. There are parts of
the New Testament that are just embarrassing and
otherwise inconvenient to our modern lives. We
just ignore those parts and go on about the
business of creating little theological systems
that suit us.
That last
paragraph is going to get me at least 20
scorching emails. Tut, tut, please settle
down.
I’m only
telling you what I’ve observed. In my
experience, people either ignore or
conveniently avoid reading parts of the New
Testament that are inconvenient for them.
Again, the exception of your monk friend
is duly noted.
Now this is important to remember:
all that I’ve described so far is what the best
and most serious Christians do. Your average
Christian might never read the New Testament at
all. He or she likely doesn’t even know the
names of the 27 writings that comprise our canon
of scripture. These people show up at church now
and again. They listen to what the minister
behind the pulpit is saying and take that as
gospel truth without asking any significant
questions. Ironically, these are the people who
are often the most dogmatic and outspoken about
Christianity. Oftentimes it is these people you
see waving Bibles around, shouting and screaming
about how every blessed word of the Bible sprang
straight from the lips of the Almighty.
Anyone who has actually slugged it out with the
New Testament, reading it carefully and trying
to piece together the truth about God, Jesus,
and how we should live, will be so filled with
humility and grace that they will probably never
yell at anyone about anything, much less the
Bible.
Now
I’m fine with this whole process. I mean, it’s
not like we have a choice. This is the best we
can do. So I’ve made my peace with the reality
of the situation. And that’s probably why I’m
less dogmatic and picky about the details than
some.
But
what truly amazes me is what happens when two
Christians find themselves in a dispute over
some doctrinal issue or passage of scripture.
Suddenly they forget how messy the New Testament
is, how contradictory and convoluted parts of it
can be. They forget that their own theology is a
product of very selective reading.
Forgetting these things, they run back to their
studies in search of verses of scripture that
support their position. They pull out books and
commentaries; they scan denominational pamphlets
or find help online in locating these verses.
Suddenly, single verses are seen to support
whole theologies. Some verse from First John now
has the power to shore up an entire worldview.
Some obscure phrase from Jude is thought to have
the final answer on how men and women should
relate to each other. And some phrase that Jesus
used in a parable now means that people who
disagree with you and your ideas about God will
roast slowly over an open fire in the pits of
hell throughout all of eternity.
These furious exchanges of quotations are like
people lobbing mortar shots at each other from
trenches. Those involved only get angrier and
more entrenched. I guess eventually they get
tired and stop. One or perhaps both camps claim
victory. No one generally learns anything
constructive from these battles.
How
do I know so much about this? Because I used to
be right in the middle of those fights. In
college and seminary, I stood on street corners,
arguing and fighting with fundamentalist street
preachers. I remember once dragging the Greek
New Testament (I had all of one semester of
Greek under my belt) down to the street corner
to show a sweating, shouting evangelist an
aorist verb.
He
stared at the Bible for a moment, then looked
back at me. Then he shouted, “Your pride will be
your downfall, and you will burn forever in the
LAKE OF FIIIIIRE!!!!!
I
mean, what can you say to that? "Nu-uh!"
So
now I’m gently sliding into middle age. I’m
tired of fighting over the Bible. Honestly, I
couldn’t care less about most fine points of
theology. I know a little too much about how the
New Testament was formed, and I know a little
too much about what’s in there and how hard it
is to keep it straight.
I
have much simpler questions for people now.
“You reading the New Testament? Trying your
best to understand it?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you trying to follow Jesus as a
disciple, trying to understand what he said
and live the way he did, where possible?”
“Yeah, I’m trying.”
“MY BROTHER!”

Gordon Atkinson is pastor of Covenant Baptist
Church in San Antonio, Texas and has his own
outstanding website
www.reallivepreacher.com. We are most
grateful to Gordon for his permission to
reproduce his essays
here.