Questions in the Gospel of Luke?

Just out of curiosity, and partly inspired by Douglas Estes' new book, The Questions of Jesus in John: Logic, Rhetoric, and Persuasive Discourse, I've been snooping around the Gospel of Luke and taking note of all the questions/nondeclarative sentences. After counting them all up, I color-coded and categorized each question according to who spoke it.

• Angels/heavenly messengers ask only one question in the entire Gospel—Luke 24:5. Interestingly though, this question is somewhat mirrored in Acts 1:11, which raises the question of what the author was trying to communicate by using these angelic rhetorical questions.

• Demons and the demonically possessed ask three questions of Jesus (two in 4:34 and one in 8:28).

• Disciples (including those who are not part of the Twelve, like Mary/Martha) ask a total of ten questions variously among themselves and directly to Jesus.

• I lumped several characters into a single category of miscellaneous, generally "good" characters (including Zechariah, Elizabeth, Mary, John the Baptizer, and Jesus-sympathetic crowds). This category comprised eighteen interrogatives.

• Those who challenge Jesus and are otherwise adversarial in their question-asking (including the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Romans) account for nineteen total questions.

• Finally, Jesus takes the cake with a whopping one-hundred and six questions.

All in all, the Gospel of Luke features a grand total of 157 questions/nondeclarative sentences—an impressive number for such a relatively short piece of literature, to be sure. 

Curiously enough (and unlike his character in the Gospel of John), many of the questions asked by Jesus in the Gospel of Luke are spoken as the words of someone else—i.e., characters in parables (including "bad/evil" characters!) and, in at least one case, God.

I have also tallied the number of questions in The Acts of the Apostles, and will post the results as soon as I've finished categorizing them.

Exciting Announcement!

As of this week, I will officially become a regular contributor at Near Emmaus, consistently ranked among the top ten biblioblogs on the web over the last couple years. I am incredibly excited to offer my thoughts via this well-established forum.

For those who are uninterested in New Testament biblical studies and theology, fear not! I will still be posting fairly regularly here at Everyday Revolutionary (although if you're not interested in New Testament biblical studies and theology, odds are great that you stopped reading my blog a looooong time ago).

Thank you all for reading and for sticking with this little blog over the last three years, and I look forward to posting more here in the future. I'm coming up on my 200th post soon, and to celebrate I plan to give away several books from my personal library. Stay tuned!

Sharpening My Interests

As I move forward with my seminary education, I have noticed that my research methods are becoming a bit more efficient, and I have grown more comfortable with writing much and writing often. This is a good thing! One problem that I have had my entire life and across multiple areas of interest, however, is that of narrowing my attention to a specific field or specialty. I am convinced that this will continue to be one of my greatest challenges as I begin to write my thesis and afterward pursue PhD studies. However, I am making small steps in what I believe is the right direction.

Recently, I’ve had a series of encounters with the Greek text of Mark 4:1-9, the so-called Parable of the Sower. About two weeks ago, I was asked to translate this passage as an assignment for my Intermediate Greek course. A few days later, I received an email update from an online journal I signed up for months earlier. The update mentioned that a new article by Steven E. Runge had been posted to the site regarding “relative saliency and information structure” in the Greek text of Mark’s Parable of the Sower. Later that same week, before I began my translation work, I checked out Ched Myers’s book, Binding the Strong Man, and it immediately fell open (due to a break in the spine) to a discussion on Mark 4:1-9 in the context of first century Palestinian agrarian peasantry. This strange string of coincidences has piqued my interest in the ubiquitous text that almost every Christian has heard since childhood. But looking at Mark’s interpretation of the parable left me with lots of questions. For one thing, Mark’s interpretation doesn’t make much since. The sower remains unidentified, though what he is sowing appears alternatively to be “the word” (which needs defining within the Markan context) and, later in the parable, people. The people in the explanation, however, are equated with both the seed and the land the seed is broadcast upon. Clearly, the words that Mark places in Jesus’s mouth as an explanation of the parable in vv.13-20 do not share the nuanced Greek of the original parable. Who is the sower? White, middle-class Americans have typically interpreted this character as Jesus. But Myers points out that this is problematic—Jesus himself was speaking to farmers. Those with ears to hear the parable would have thought, He's talking about me. Furthermore, the spiritualization of the parable is troublesome, too. Instead, perhaps Jesus is suggesting that there is a certain inevitability to the Reign of God—that despite some falling upon the rocks, despite some falling into shallow soil, etc., when the seeds are broadcast and the earth is tilled (plowing occurred after sowing in first century Palestine), the Reign of God will burst forth into existence, providing 30...60...100 times more than enough to feed the starving farmers. The Parable of the Sower is really The Parable of the Bountiful Harvest.

Additionally, I have also been giving a lot of my attention lately to political and social deconstruction of the story of the Gerasene Demoniac in Mark 5. This has been inspired by my long-term interest in how to interpret through a modern (or postmodern) lens those Gospel passages that describe Jesus’s acts of exorcism. The demon(s) that plague the Gerasene Demoniac are the only named demonic entity (aside from Beelzebul) in all four Gospels. My assumption is that this story has much more to do with Jesus metaphorically “casting out” the Romans (i.e. “Legion”) from their imposed authority over the Judeans than it does with any supernatural ability to spook the devil out of people. Yet if this episode can be explained as a political metaphor, how then should the other “lesser” exorcisms of Christ be interpreted? This is a puzzling question to me. I have been reading a recent thesis that attempts to reconcile a political/social reading of the text with a psychoanalytical reading, but the author’s weak execution and conclusions have left me less than impressed. I have also been reading Ched Myers’s thoughts on the same story; Myers relies very much on Joachim Jeramias’s social interpretive strategies, but still stops short of making any definitive claims about the text. I am also interested in comparing Mark’s use of the Gerasene Demoniac story with other Hellenistic tales of demonic possession (if such accounts exist). From what I have gathered thus far (which is admittedly limited), no such comprehensive comparative studies exist.

These two texts (and the Gospel of Mark in general) have helped me to narrow my field of interest, which I think is a step in the right direction toward choosing a viable thesis topic. The texts may change with time—nothing is set in stone yet—but I am enthusiastic about finally acquiring the ability to sharpen my educational focus—an ability that I have struggled to attain my whole life.

Queering the Church, Part Two: Praxis

In my last post, I discussed how the letters of Paul are not as clear on the issue of homosexuality as many in the Church would prefer—indeed, of the two primary pericopae often utilized by “Christian” heterosexist pastors and theologians, the language is in some places quite murky. In contrast, however, Paul does iterate multiple times the absolute necessity of unity, fellowship, love, and submission to one another in the body of Christ. How then do we illustrate this to our congregations? How can the quickly growing field of biblical scholarship and gender studies begin to turn around such an ambling, socially and culturally stunted behemoth? I suggest that this might best be done by “queering” the Church.

             This term, coined by literary queer theorists and theologians in the 1990s, refers to the reappropriation by a marginalized group of a word or object that was previously used to degrade, demoralize, and dehumanize members of that group. Great theological strides have been made in recent years in “queering the Bible,” that is, reading and studying the Bible from an LGBTQ perspective. In this particular case, “queering the Church” refers to the act of making the Church—an institution whose most recognizable public trait is homophobia—into not only an institution which is unashamed and unafraid of its gay and lesbian brothers and sisters, but an institution which openly embraces them. But the term “queering” has another connotation, as well: the action of setting apart, or “peculiarizing.” This is a notion that has deep roots in the liberation theology of the Exodus: “You shall not wrong or oppress the stranger in your midst, for you were once strangers in the land of Egypt.” In queering the Church, we should hope not only to become opened to the LGBTQ community, but stand out among our culture as God’s peculiar, inclusive people, for the simple reason that at some point in our long history, we knew what it was like to be despised, persecuted, “queer.” Is this not the greater mission of the body of Christ?

While it should be observed that no persecuted group has ever achieved justice with a magical catchall sermon or speech, I would here like to briefly outline five specific ways in which our congregations and faith communities might begin to push forward in this dialogue.

1. Begin the conversation

People fear what they do not understand. The more an issue can be discussed, however, the closer our brothers and sisters in the church can be moved toward understanding. David L. Tiede spells out the responsibility of church and seminary leaders to their congregations and students: 

Those who believe that the prevailing mores are unjust or oppressive must either garner the authority of the institutions which articulate and maintain the moral standards of the community or they must challenge that authority. Institutions such as seminaries, congregations, and church offices steward their legitimate authority in these matters more by persuasion than coercion. They must listen to the arguments of those who believe the standards are inept for the many or unjust to the few.[1] 

Sometimes the best way to initiate revolutionary change is to be open with our questions, and not be afraid to push back a little against the presumptions of others.

2. Illustrate the inherent misogyny that underlies homophobia.

As mentioned above, when the Bible is appealed to as a source of wisdom worthy of the so-called “problem” of homosexuality, it may be helpful to very carefully frame the issue within the historical context of misogyny in the ancient world. Most (though not all) modern Christians recoil from the accusation of sexism, and upon further discussion it will become evident to our congregations that our heterosexism is actually just thinly veiled sexism. As Martin claims, “The ancient condemnation of the penetrated man was possible only because sexist ideology had already inscribed the inferiority of women into heterosexual sex. To be penetrated was to be inferior because women were inferior.”[2] If we confront our churches and ourselves with the knowledge that our historical hatred of gays and lesbians is less about sin and morality than it is about deep-rooted assumptions about the superiority of men to women, we can then repent and begin to press beyond such social structures.

3. Be your faith community’s Paul.

            The Apostle Paul was perhaps the very first Christian contextual theologian, and we admire him for this. Should we not fulfill the same role for our congregations and faith communities that are struggling to accept gays into the family of God? Paul wrote on Kingdom ethics from a specific cultural and historical context. We should, therefore, also let our culture and historical context influence how we perceive Kingdom ethics today. It makes little sense to attempt to plug Paul’s contextual theology neatly into our own.

4. Value experience.

Our congregations have too long sat in the festering stagnant water of bibliolatry. When experience ceases to inform reason, and when scripture is treated as a god and not as a tool for communing with God, the Church will lose relevance. To prevent this, we must open ourselves to the moving of the Spirit in our lives, not restricting it to the pages of a book. It is criminally myopic for a church to publicly condemn gays without having ever met one. Actual face-to-face encounters with the LGBT community help to connect faces with the growing number of openly gay Christians who are struggling for a place in the Church, and it is hard to hate someone whom you know and love deeply. We simply cannot afford to place the Bible in such high esteem that we alienate and devalue the experience of others. Our churches need to develop a sensitivity to the Biblical text which is not often seen among people absolutely certain of the truth of their perspective, moving forward with fear and trembling.

5. Love.

Above all, we must love. Often, those claiming to be moderates circumvent the issue of
homosexuality by proclaiming that we should “hate the sin, not the sinner.” Unfortunately,
what we have thus far failed to grasp is that hate is the sin, as described by Paul in the
opening verses of Romans 2. It is easy to isolate two verses in 1 Corinthians 6 and read
what we want to hear from them, giving ourselves permission to discriminate and
marginalize by right of Biblical authority. It is a much more difficult task to take in the
entire letter through the pivotal locus of 1 Corinthians 13: unless we infuse our discourse
with openhearted love, we are but clanging cymbals. And now, perhaps more than ever, is
when the public needs to hear the melody of the Church ringing clearly, a song of freedom
and acceptance.

---

[1] Tiede, 153.

[2] Martin, 48.

Queering the Church: It's About Time (Part One)

Note: This is Part One of my two-part series on homosexuality and the Church. The first part examines supposed references to homosexuality in the letters of Paul; Part Two, which I will post tomorrow, will outline five primary ways to introduce this information to a church congregation.            

For the Evangelical Christian who leans even modestly leftward, it is not a difficult task to hermeneutically bypass Hebrew scripture that appears to condemn homosexual activity. The admonition found in Leviticus 20:13 that anyone found to be engaged in same-sex intercourse should be put to death can be cast in doubt simply by engaging in the process of questioning: In our current cultural context of modern and postmodern American Christianity, who should be deemed worthy by the public to carry out the sentencing of such a crime? Should it be our officers of the law who are to put all homosexuals to death? The absurdity of the question exposes the cultural and contextual gap between ancient Hebrew Yahwism and twenty-first century American globalism, and is often left unconsidered by many who vehemently defend what they call “traditional marriage.” The New Testament Gospels contain virtually no references to homosexuality at all (with the exception of a few queer theological interpretations of extracanonical Gospels[2]), so little can be argued from the authoritative words of Jesus of Nazareth. On this particular issue, he remains peculiarly silent. But what of the letters of Paul? How do we confront the theology of a man whose writings make up more than a quarter of the New Testament with our rapidly shifting knowledge of gender identity and human sexuality? Such is the aim of this study.

In Part One I will address two primary pericopae from the writings of the Apostle Paul, 1 Corinthians 6:9-10 and Romans 1:24-27, and their literary, historical, and social context. In Part Two of this post, I will help to outline a method in which the material of Part One might be disseminated within a congregational or ministerial setting. 

PART ONE: Textual Analysis

1 Corinthians 6:9-10

Paul’s first letter to the Church in Corinth deals with several important issues with which the early Christians in that city struggled, particularly unity, holiness, love, the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, and sexual morality. It is the latter with which this section is concerned. Paul was undertaking no small task to preach to the Corinthians about sexual ethic. Of the cultural setting of Corinth, David L. Tiede writes, “Corinth was a town with a reputation for cosmopolitan airs, for bawdy sex in the marketplace, for crafty dealings among the traders at the port…The human meat markets of every age have looked about the same, and every generation has had its high priests of sexual freedom and pornography.”[3] With this context in mind, two words in particular should be given special attention from 1 Corinthians 6:9-10: arsenokoitai (arsenokoitai) and malakoi (malakoi).

            The fluidity of language has a long history of birthing numerous interpretations of the Biblical text, both in ancient times and throughout recent history. Dale B. Martin, in his excellent study of human sexuality and the Church, Sex and the Single Savior, notes that both of these mysterious terms included in Paul’s Corinthian vice list held, until the 19^th or 20^th century, a distinctly male connotation, with no respect to our modern concept of sexual orientation. The term arsenokoitai, for example, took on new meaning when the Greek noun—which refers solely to men—was translated in the early twentieth century with the generic label of “homosexual,” thereby feeding the growing misconception that both the male and female gay identity stemmed from what was commonly considered to be a mental disorder.[4]

Furthermore, Martin suggests that arsenokoitai (arsenokoiteV) has a much more specific meaning than any generic homosexual activity. This specific meaning might be lost to us, but contextual hints may be found in the Sibylline Oracles (2nd - 5th cent., CE), an ancient Greek text which utilizes the word in a vice list very similar to (yet totally independent of) Paul’s reference in 1 Corinthians. However, arsenokoiteV here takes on a distinctly economic meaning, sandwiched between such admonitions as “Do not steal seeds. Whoever takes for himself is accursed,” and “Give one who has labored his wage. Do not oppress the poor man.”[5] In addition, two other early Christian texts, The Acts of John (2^nd cent.) and Theophilus of Antioch’s To Autolychus, also include arsenokoiteV among economic vice lists.[6] It is possible that by including aresenokoitai among such sexual sinners as adulterers (moicoi) and fornicators (pornoi), Paul is attempting to single out those who are motivated by their own greed toward sexual exploitation. In any case, it should be pointed out that the exact definition of this term has been and will most likely remain a mystery, and that due to this ambiguity, translations will continue to be influenced by the particular ideological milieu or bias of the translator. 

Unlike arsenokoiteV, however, the word malakoV (plural: malakoi) does have a well-documented meaning. Long before Arnold Schwarzenegger referred to his political opponents as “girly-men,” the ancients used the term malakoV to refer to any man with a less-than-masculine demeanor, a physically feminine build, distaste for hard work, or an otherwise milquetoast disposition. Josephus and Plutarch both use the term in their writings to refer to the cowardly.[7] The Greek word is actually the etymological ancestor of the English word malleable, and means, literally, soft. Often translated together with arsenokoitai as “sexual perverts” or “homosexuals,” a much closer understanding of the word might be its original King James English translation, effeminate, which inadvertently takes into consideration the inherent sexism of Paul’s culture. Men were chiseled and virile, but women were weak, both in will and in physical stature. The ancient understanding of the feminine was very much influenced by the coital act—men were aggressive penetrators, while women were to passively allow themselves to be penetrated. Any man who was seen to be “soft” followed the natural order of distinction bestowed specifically upon women, and was therefore weak and cowardly. As Martin concludes, the difficulty with Paul’s use of the term malakoV is not the inherently sinful nature of homosexuality, but instead the “rank misogyny” implied by the term.[8] This concept will be explored further in Part II of this study, which will be posted tomorrow.

Romans 1:24-27

In this text-segment, as in the Corinthian correspondence, context becomes one of the key issues to interpreting the passage. It should first be noted that the overarching theme of the Romans letter involves the complicated interplay of salvation for the Jews and salvation for the Gentiles, and it is through this lens that Romans 1:24-27 must be viewed. Specifically, when Paul speaks of what many today consider to be a theological re-hashing of the Fall of Humanity, he is actually referring to the idolatry of the pre-Christian Gentiles, as is revealed by the preceding paragraphs.

It should not be overlooked or ignored that the primary sin that Paul is speaking against here is not some modern concept of sexual orientation, but the sin of idolatry. The  “exchanging of natural intercourse [Greek: cresin, or use] for unnatural” among men and women is not the sin being committed, but is instead punishment meted out by God for the sin of worshiping false gods! Furthermore, David L. Balch observes that “Paul is not evaluating homosexual ‘relationships,’ a modern value, but judges the psychological state of the person experiencing addictive desire…Paul's terms desire, passion, inflame, appetite, and error suggest that he is critiquing unbridled eros, sexual passion.”[9] Paul, like many other ancient moralists, viewed homosexual activity as “the most extreme expression of heterosexual lust.”[10] This interpretation of the pericope holds that Paul was instead noting the consequences of idolatry; that is, the total abandonment of will to appetite. Indeed, the link between sexual promiscuity and gluttony has been well-explored by recent scholars:

Sexual desire and hunger for food were thought to be analogous. The pleasure or use of sex is to be limited by satisfaction, as a full stomach limits eating. The Greco-Roman question of sexual use does not ask about the gender of the subject or the object, does not ask whether the activity is homo- or heterosexual.[11] 

Women being inflamed with passion for women and men being inflamed with passion for men is not, then, the result of any innate, natural, sexual orientation that causes one to be attracted to a person of the same sex, but is instead the carrying out of a natural sexual drive to its depraved ultimate conclusion.

Finally, it is a tragic irony that those who utilize this very passage as fuel for the fires of judgment against the LGBTQ community apparently (and most unfortunately) read no further than the end of the first chapter of Romans. The very next portion of the letter contains the following admonition:

Therefore you have no excuse, whoever you are, when you judge others; for in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, are doing the very same things. You say, ‘We know that God’s judgment on those who do such things is in accordance with truth.’ Do you imagine, whoever you are, that when you judge those who do such things and yet do them yourself, you will escape the judgment of God? 

The same Paul who proclaims that the New Age of Christ has arrived, urging Gentiles and 

Jews alike to embrace one another as brothers and sisters, also writes to the Church in 

Galatia that “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no 

longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” This understanding of God 

as no respecter of persons bears a remarkable resemblance to Peter’s epiphany in Acts 10, 

as he preaches to Cornelius following his own vision regarding the acceptance of the 

profane: “You yourselves know that it is unlawful for a Jew to associate with or to visit a 

Gentile; but God has shown me that I should not call anyone profane or unclean.” As long 

as proof-texting is utilized by those perceived to be in power as a tool for marginalization 

and rejection of our gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender brothers and sisters, the church 

will never be seen by the oppressed as the catalyst for the New Age of Christ that Paul 

envisioned it to be.

---

[2] For more on this, see Teresa J. Hornsby and Ken Stone, Bible Trouble: Queer Reading at the Boundaries of Biblical Scholarship (Society of Biblical Literature Semeia Studies) (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2011), particularly Jione Havea‘s chapter, “Lazarus Troubles.”

[3] David L. Tiede, "Will idolaters, sodomizers, or the greedy inherit the kingdom of God : A pastoral exposition of 1 Cor 6:9-10." Word & World 10, no. 2 (March 1, 1990): 152.

[4] Dale B. Martin, Sex and the Single Savior: Gender and Sexuality in Biblical Interpretation (Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox Press, 2006), 39.

[5] Ibid, 40.

[6] Ibid, 41.

[7] Ibid, 45.

[8] Ibid, 47.

[9] Balch, David L. "Romans 1:24-27, Science, and Homosexuality." Currents In Theology And Mission 25, no. 6 (December 1, 1998): p 437.

[10] Victor Paul Furnish, “The Bible and Homosexuality,” in Homosexuality: In Search of a Christian Understanding, ed. by Leon Smith, p 13, quoted by Martin, p 49.

[11] Balch, 437.

Kingdom? What kingdom?

Not long ago, I was asked to read a piece of scripture for my seminary's spring convocation service. At this service, my wife and the rest of the students in her MDiv cohort will be commissioned as they prepare to travel on a pilgrimage to Burma, where they will be spend some of their time visiting a Burmese refugee camp.

The verses I was asked to read are from Luke 17:20-21:

Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the Kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, ‘The Kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, “Look, here it is!” or “There it is!” For, in fact, the Kingdom of God is among you.’

There are lots of translational eccentricities with this text-segment. For instance, we have all heard it translated as "The Kingdom of God is among you," as well as the way in which it is picked up in Tolstoy's Christian anarchist manifesto, The Kingdom of God is Within You.  Since I was going to be reading this out loud to a large gathering of people, I felt it was important to get this right. I quickly shot a question back to the seminary: Should I say that the Kingdom of God is among you, or the Kingdom of God is within you? That one word makes all the difference: among implies that the Kingdom is physically present within the crowd (perhaps in the person of Jesus of Nazareth?), while within suggests that the Kingdom lives within the hearts and minds of those gathered.

Came the reply from the seminary: "You should use "The Reign of God is among you."

This brings up a completely different translational issue: what do we do about the word "Kingdom"?

The Greek word is βασιλεια (basileia), literally, "kingdom." But there are problems with translating this word literally—I'll get to that in a minute. Yesterday, while discussing this issue over coffee with friends, I began to develop a few possible answers (or, at least, conversational perspectives):

1. We should translate βασιλεια as "Kingdom." Two of my friends said that it's a good thing to leave well enough alone—the word kingdom is a good, accurate translation.

2. We should translate it as "Reign." This is understandable. The word kingdom has obvious bias based in a patriarchal society. Why not "Queendom of God"?

3. My friend Mark says that words like kingdom can have negative connotations within oppressed cultures, and suggests that "Dream of God" might be a better way to communicate the idea behind βασιλεια. This holds special meaning among societies who have gone through such economic and social hardship that they have let go of dreaming of future possibilities.

4. Still others say that we should leave the word in its Greek form. If we don't have an adequate translation, we should let the word speak for itself.

These are all good answers. The difficulty is that words like kingdom and reign have lost their meaning in the global culture of the 21st century. You don't see too many true blue kingdoms in the world anymore, and the word reign doesn't mean much within a democratic context. And the word dream (while certainly beautiful) fails to communicate the deeply political dichotomy between the Basileia of God and the Empire of Caesar in first-century Judea. I also think that leaving the word as it stands in Greek is difficult, as well, as Basileia doesn't adequately convey the passage's spiritual context to the normal, everyday (non-Greek speaking) person in the church pew.

I don't have a solid answer as to how this verse should be translated. I just know that 1) it should be appropriately political, 2) it should be deeply spiritual, and 3) it must be approachable from the perspective of "the least of these."
I'm interested in what you think. You can post your opinions in the comments below.

Bible Problems--A Few Reasons I Don't Believe in Biblical Inerrancy

Hello, fellow revolutionaries!

It is late, and I can't sleep; so I'm passing along some thoughts that have been going through my brain lately on the subject of biblical inerrancy--the belief that the scriptures are free of error/contradiction.

Most of this stemmed from a conversation I've had with some folks over at the iMonk monastery, where they thankfully have a very open and congenial forum for discussing issues like this in a civil manner. Here goes.

I don't believe--and haven't for quite some time--that the Bible is completely inerrant. And while I am a seminary student, a person of faith, a lover of God and of people, and a passionate follower of Jesus, I think that to believe the scriptures are free from all error is asinine; it's the proverbial ostrich putting its proverbial head in the proverbial sand. I present the following instances to support my understanding of the scriptures as writings that are just as flawed as the human men (and women?) who wrote them. It is by no means an exhaustive list, just a few things to get you thinking.

1) In Genesis 1, the author claims that all of life was created in a calculated order, with humanity being the pinnacle of Elohim's Creation. However, in Genesis 2, humanity is pretty much the first thing created, with all of the animals being created last for the purpose of giving Adam a chance to name them. Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 are two completely different creation accounts, with different orders and even different understandings of God--the former describes a vast, cosmic, transcendent deity, while the latter describes the kind of God who walks and talks with Adam and Eve in the garden.

2) The narrative of Joshua claims that the conquering of Canaan was swift and complete, in an idealized and miraculous show of military might. However, in the very next book (Judges), the claim is made that the conquering of Canaan was slow and incomplete.

3) In 1 Samuel, we find the old familiar story of David facing down the giant, and we are told that David son of Jesse killed Goliath son of Gath by using a slingshot to hit the dude between the eyes (and then a sword to cut off his head). However, in 2 Samuel, the claim is made that Elhanan son of Jaare-oregim killed Goliath son of Gath.

4) The prophets Isaiah and Micah both describe a time when people will "beat their swords into plowshares," while the prophet Joel explicitly calls his readers to "beat your plowshares into swords." (Admittedly, this could be explained away by the fact that Isaiah and Micah are speaking about a future kingdom, while Joel is giving a command for the present. However, this still serves as an example of how biblical authors used other sources and texts, and even used disagreement and contradiction as literary devices.)

5) Even the gospels have their little eccentricities--for example, Jesus saying both "Whoever is not for me is against me," and "Whoever is not against us is for us," is logically inconsistent. Rather than try to explain away how Jesus means both statements to be equally true, it is simpler (think: Occam's Razor) and more likely to believe that perhaps someone may have copied it down incorrectly. It is not a stretch to think that somewhere in that long game of telephone that eventually gave us the scriptures, someone innocently and accidentally wrote down the wrong thing--the two phrases are certainly easy enough to confuse.

Unless we are to use some extreme linguistic and exegetical gymnastics (or simply read something into the Bible that just isn't there--recently someone tried to explain to me that David and Elhanan could have been the same person), the fact remains that the Bible is full of little errors and contradictions. The difficulty with much of modern apologetics is that apologists often attempt to make the Bible jump through their hoops, rather than letting it speak for itself.

via ASBO Jesus

HOWEVER. When we view the scriptures as monolithic--some call it bibliolatry--we fail to recognize that the Bible was written over centuries--millennia, even--by dozens, if not hundreds, of authors and editors (read: "people liable to screwing up") who disagreed with one another, and had differing ideas of the nature and character of God. But to me, the true narrative of God shines through the scriptures--beautifully, mysteriously, divinely--despite the frailty of the Bible's very human writers.

It all just seems like people try too hard to force the Bible to fit together perfectly, when in reality, it does not. It's complicated--just like life and history are complicated. And I would argue that that's the beauty of it all. It's simply a fallacy to believe that just because the Genesis accounts contradict one another, or the fact that Esther, Job, and Jonah are very likely fictional accounts, means that God doesn't love us, that Jesus didn't have something to teach us, and that there is an ultimate plan for this whole ball of wax we call earth. The scriptures include letters, fiction, history, hagiography, poetry, songs, fables, melodramas, and allegories, and it is the most expansive collection of writings available to us that deal with the subject of who God is. We can't afford to take it too seriously.

To recognize that the scriptures are not infallible is to recognize their frailty, and make both the Bible and ourselves vulnerable. But vulnerability is exactly what Jesus was about--relying on God and on each other rather than our own understanding. And as a wise man once said, All instruction is but a finger pointing to the moon; Now, dear student, do not confuse the finger with the moon.