Tag: Scripture

One of the issues most apologists of the faith, eventually and frequently encounter,  is the reliability of the Scriptures as an historical reference. Does the Bible record history? It surely does. However, the Scriptures do not necessary recount history in the very technical and chronological sense we usually do (or like to think we do) today. And some sophistication is required of those who have recourse to the Scriptures and other ancient documents.

While we want (as apologists) to exercise care in insisting on too much from a text, neither should critics be simply dismissive of the historical veracity of Scripture because it recounts actual historical events in ways not always in conformity with modern and Western notions.

Regarding the historicity of the Biblical accounts, Dei Verbum, (The Dogmatic Constitution on Sacred Scripture) from the Second Vatican Council insists on the historicity of the Gospel texts while also making some importatant observations about the nature of the History involved:

Holy Mother Church has firmly and with absolute constancy held, and continues to hold, that the four Gospels just named, whose historical character the Church unhesitatingly asserts, faithfully hand on what Jesus Christ, while living among men, really did and taught for their eternal salvation until the day He was taken up into heaven (see Acts 1:1). Indeed, after the Ascension of the Lord the Apostles handed on to their hearers what He had said and done. This they did with that clearer understanding which they enjoyed after they had been instructed by the glorious events of Christ’s life and taught by the light of the Spirit of truth. The sacred authors wrote the four Gospels, selecting some things from the many which had been handed on by word of mouth or in writing, reducing some of them to a synthesis, explaining some things in view of the situation of their churches and preserving the form of proclamation but always in such fashion that they told us the honest truth about Jesus. For their intention in writing was that either from their own memory and recollections, or from the witness of those who “themselves from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the Word” we might know “the truth” concerning those matters about which we have been instructed (see Luke 1:2-4). (Dei Verbum, 19).

Thus the Scriptures, in this case the Gospels, recount actual history, an actual history vouched for by eyewitnesses.  But it is a history that is inspired, one that is written in such a way that earlier events are seen and depicted in the light of later events. It is a history that involves selected events and wherein many things are synthesized and applied to the listeners and audiences to whom the apostles spoke and wrote at a later time.

As such the Sacred Authors, (beginning with the Holy Spirit), were less concerned with details such as exactly where and when a certain event took place. Was it the Sermon on the Mount, as in Matthew or the Sermon on the Plain, as in Luke?  Does it really matter? Perhaps it was in both places, perhaps the sermon was actually a collection of things Jesus said in many places and synthesized later by him, or his apostles. Did two or three women go to the tomb on Easter Morning? How many angels, one or two appeared? Why are there two very accounts of Creation in Genesis 1 and 2? What exactly happened to Paul when he arrived in Rome and why does Acts suddenly end without telling us? These sorts of details interest us moderns intensely, but the ancients were less concerned about such things.

Our modern, Western notion of history likes to carefully pinpoint dates, times and rather exact accountings of what was said and done. We are, of course, helped in this by our modern capacity to record events in voice and picture.

Indeed, our modern, Western approach to things in general is to control by measuring, whether it is borders, or time, or science or history. Statistics, dates, demographics, etc. not only impress us, but they also act to reassure us that what we say is true, because we have measured it.

To some degree, measuring accurately is related to truth, e.g. a debate between doctor and patient as to whether the patient has actually gained weight or not, is pretty well resolved by recourse to a scale.

But other things, especially those related to history,  are less measurable. For example, what is the meaning of a certain historical event? How important is a certain utterance, or the unfolding of a certain chain of events? When one recounts the history of a people or an era, what relative weight should certain things, people, events, movements, statistics, etc., receive?

So, when it comes to the recounting of history, while recourse to scientific measures of date, time, and high specificity to what is said or do, is helpful, it may not always be possible to render such details, and, even when it is, such specificity may or may not help us in history’s other task of connecting the dots and rendering  coherent the meaning and significance of history. There will always be, and must be, some degree of interpretation, of selectivity and yes, even of bias.

Some who like to be dismissive of  Scripture as history, because it is told from the point of view of faith, are often less willing to accept that all history is told from some point of view.

As a sacred history, Scripture IS history, speaking of things that actually happened and were said. But it is a sacred history, since God prophetically interprets for us the reality that history records. It is history from a point of view inspired by God.

We moderns have liked to think that our way of telling history is largely free of strong or biased interpretation. We like to think that history can be recounted with a “just the facts,” approach. But this is naive. For any time something moves from event to word, there is interpretation.

If, for example, I see a car accident and say, “Jones hit Smith,” I have already interpreted the event and given it from a viewpoint. In this case, I more than suggest that Jones is to blame. Even if I just say, “Two cars collided,” I am placing a passive interpretation on the event that suggests somehow that the cars were the moral agents. Of course cars are not moral agents and do not cause accidents. Thus my interpretive description suggests either that I do not know what really happened, or that I, for many possible reasons, do not want to speculate as to the cause. Thus, my lack of description is an interpretation no matter how I phrase it.

The ancients were more sophisticated in recognizing and accepting that any telling of history would involve interpretation. Recognizing this,  they gave greater latitude to authors and were less concerned that every little detail add up with other accounts they may have read.

In terms of Scripture, therefore, we have a more ancient understanding and telling of history that includes a lot of built-in interpretation.

But it is history. And we, who are apologists can certainly point the Sacred text as historical proof. Yet, at the same time, we ought to be careful to understand that the text does diverge to some degree from modern notions of exactitude in details. We can do violence to the Sacred text and lack sophistication to the degree that we try to make it conform to modern notions by “resolving” details the ancient authors were unconcerned about in the first place.

Trying to resolve, for example, which Gospel account of a certain event or saying is the earliest thus presumably the more “pure” account, may not be possible, and might send an ancient Christian into puzzled laughter. That both accounts are fundamentally the same is usually more than enough to compensate for the variance in details.

To non believers, who like to highlight historical discrepancies as proof of a lack of veracity, two things can also be said. First, very few non-believers doubt the existence or fundamental facts about other ancient people based on discrepancies in other ancient texts. Indeed, a lack of discrepancy might more than suggest the presence of a single author who wrote a “controlled” message to deceive, rather than to many eyewitnesses, who, though in some variance as to exacting details, nevertheless saw, remembered and recounted actual events.

Secondly, our own modern telling of history is far less precise, and free of bias than we would like to think. Even the evening news is riddled with bias and perspective, as well as disagreements as to the details. If that be the case with news less than a day old, even more so our recounting of events decades and centuries later.

In the end, sophistication is needed by all when speaking of things as “history” and “historical.” Accuracy is to be desired, but once something moved from event to word, there is always going to be some interpretation and viewpoint at work. This is the human condition, and both believer and nonbeliever alike do well to recognize and accept  that words, as analogy, never perfectly render what they describe. Assessing all history, not just Biblical History, requires this sobriety and sophistication.

Yet, as those of the household of faith, regarding Scripture, we can at least be sure, by faith,  that the Holy Spirit guided the authors and the magisterial interpreters of the Sacred Page. Thus Scripture is more than a humanly limited description of events and words, it is the divinely inspired interpretation of those events, it is prophetic interpretation of reality.

In this brief video, Fr. Francis Martin ponders the fact that the incident of the cleansing of the Temple is presented ny John at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry and by the synoptic Gospels at the end.

I was meditating on John 11, for personal Bible Study earlier today. It is the story of the raising of Lazarus. And I was struck by the following lines:

[Martha and Mary] sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one you love is sick.” When he heard this, Jesus said, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. Therefore, when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days…..[Later. Jesus] told [his disciples] plainly, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.”

One of the harder truths of life is that our life is not about us. Neither are we the most important thing or person in the world. Rather we exist in and for the glory of God and our ultimate glory in to be caught up in and be part of God’s glory and his Kingdom. Further, we also exist, not only for our own sake but also for the sake of others.

And we see some of this in this story of Lazarus. Jesus speaks of Lazarus’ grave illness as “for the glory of God.” He further indicates that it is also so that He (Jesus) may be glorified. Further, Lazarus’ illness is also for others, that they may come to believe.

And even more stunning than his words are the actions of Jesus, who, hearing of the grave condition of Lazarus, delays his departure to see him for two whole days. His delay means that Lazarus dies! Jesus then says to his disciples that he is “glad for their sakes that he was not there (for Lazarus)!

Now, few of us can failed to be shocked by some or all of this. But our shock is largely based on a premise that this story should be largely about Lazarus and his physical condition. But, it is not, in the first place about Lazarus or about his health. It is about Jesus, it is about God’s glory, and it is about our faith in God.

Jesus’ first concern is not about Lazarus’ physical life, his condition, or about the distress of Mary and Martha who see their brother sick and then die. His first concern is for the faith of all involved and he is willing to allow a crisis to unfold in order to finally strengthen the faith of the many, even if this means the distress of the few.

Your life is not about you. We are each part of a bigger picture, a picture that God sees far better than we. This concept shocks us, I suspect for at least two reasons:

First, we live in an age that strongly emphasizes the dignity, rights and importance of the individual. Of itself this is not bad and is one of the things that distinguishes our age and its concern for human rights. However, the importance and needs of the individual must be balanced against the common good, and the needs of other individuals and groups. It must also be seen in the light of God’s glory, God’s plan and the mysterious interplay of the individual, others and God. God alone knows all this and what is best for all involved, not just me.

Second, we live in an age that strongly emphasizes physical health and comfort, as well as emotional happiness. While these things are truly good, there are greater good. And the greatest good is our spiritual well being, our faith and holiness. God is far more concerned with our eternal destiny that our present comfort. Jesus says for example, it is better to cut off a hand, a foot or pluck out our eye than to sin seriously. And while he may be using hyperbole, the teaching remains that it a more serious thing to sin seriously than to loose even very precious parts of our body. We don’t think this way. We tend to value our bodies and physical well-being more than spiritual matters. Not so with God.

Hence we see that Jesus is willing to rank faith and spiritual well-being above physical and emotional comfort. He is also willing to act for the good of many, even if that means some difficulty for the few or the one. This many rankle our “self-esteem culture,” but, to some extent we are a little to “precious” these days, and it is good to be reminded we are not the only one who is important, and that we don’t exist only for our own sake, but also for others and for the glory of God.

Another example of this whole principle is the surprising and “inconclusive” ending of the Acts of the Apostles.

Fully the last two-thirds of Acts is focused on the Evangelical Mission of St. Paul as he made four journeys into Asia Minor and then into Greece. The final chapters of Acts deal with Paul’s arrest, imprisonment and appearance before Roman officials such as Felix and Festus, as well as Herod Agrippa in Jerusalem and Caesarea.

Paul appeals his case to Rome and is sent there on ill fated journey that shipwrecks at Malta. Finally making it to Rome, Paul is imprisoned and awaits the trial that will either vindicate him or seal his fate. The story seems to be building to a climactic conclusion and we, the readers, are ready to see Paul through his final trial. But then something astonishing happens: the story just ends. Here is the concluding line of the Acts of the Apostles:

[Paul] remained for two full years in his lodgings. He received all who came to him, and with complete assurance and without hindrance he proclaimed the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ. (Acts 28:30-31)

But Luke! Don’t just leave us hanging! Did Paul go on trial? We he acquitted as some traditions assert and then made his way to Spain as he wanted? Or did he loose his appeal and suffer beheading right away? What was the outcome? We have seen Paul so far and now the story just ends?!

How can we answer this exasperating and unsatisfying end?

The simplest answer is that the Acts of the Apostles is not about Paul. It is about the going forth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the nations. Luke has, to be sure, personified this going forth of the Gospel to the nations by focusing on Paul. And once Paul reaches Rome and, though under house arrest, is able to freely preach the Gospel there (for there is chaining the Word of God (2 Tim 2:9)), the story reaches its natural conclusion. From Rome the Gospel will go forth to every part of the Empire, for every road led to Rome and away from it. Now that the Gospel has reached the center hub and is being freely preached, it will radiate outward in all directions by the grace of God.

It never WAS about Paul. It was about the Gospel. Paul himself testified to this when he said, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me–the task of testifying to the gospel of God’s grace. (Acts 20:24)

We are often focused on personalities and frequently we loose track about what is most important. And, frankly the personality we are most focused on is very often ourselves. Acts never really was about Paul. And your life is not about you. It is about what the Lord is doing for you and through you. We often want things to revolve around us, around what we think, and what we want. But, truth be told, you are not that important, neither am I. We must decrease and the Lord must increase (Jn 3:30).

Here’s the classic song about modern vanity couched in very tricky logic.

We often like to read from and quote the prophets. But if you’ve ever met a real prophet you know that being in the presence of a real prophet can be very disturbing. Prophets love God’s people, but they love them too much to gainsay the truth.

Prophets were famous for goring every one’s ox. No one left the presence of a prophet untouched.

So troubling were the prophets of old, including Jesus, that most of them were persecuted, jailed, stoned, exiled and killed. Most of the Biblical prophets were beyond controversial, they were way over the top. Prophets denounced sin and injustice in the strongest language, announcing doom to a nation that refused to repent. Many Israelites thus considered them unpatriotic and downright dangerous. They justified throwing them into prison for their lack of patriotism and for the way their words questioned and upset the status quo and the judgements of those who held power.

To many, these were dangerous men who had to be stopped.

Jesus, though essentially our savior, also adopted the role of a prophet. Listen to these words as he denounces the people of his day for their rejection of his prophetic message. In this they are just like their fore-bearers who rejected the prophets:

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites. You build the tombs of the prophets and adorn the memorials of the righteous, and you say, ‘If we had lived in the days of our ancestors, we would not have joined them in shedding the prophets’ blood.’ Thus you bear witness against yourselves that you are the children of those who murdered the prophets; now fill up what your ancestors measured out! You serpents, you brood of vipers, how can you avoid being sentenced to Hell?! (Matt 23:29ff)

Many of us today like to think that, had we lived in Jesus’ time we would surely be on his side. But, truth be told, prophets can be hard to endure and Jesus had “difficult” things to say for everyone.

Honestly, most of us struggle with the truth to some extent. And especially we moderns who prefer a more gentle discourse with large doses of honey, and very little vinegar. We probably would wince as we walked along with Jesus. Jesus was very disconcerting. Jesus was more “plain spoken” than we are usually comfortable with. If we are honest, when we read the prophets and Jesus, we will come away with much to repent of.

A picture is worth a thousand words. Consider this video clip. It is of a modern prophet named Vernon Johns (see photo – upper right). In the early 1950s he was Pastor of the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, in Montgomery Alabama. The Black Congregation that hired him was a rather sleepy congregation. In the face of rather awful racial discrimination, they preferred to remain silent and therefore safe. Vernon Johns tried to wake them from their sleep, but to no avail. They were too afraid (yet) to take a prophetic stand. Eventually Vernon Johns was arrested as a trouble maker, and the Board of Deacons fired him.

But Johns had laid a foundation for the next Pastor of Dexter Baptist, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Within a few years Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat and the Bus Boycott was on. The rest is history.

This clip is of Vernon Johns’ final sermon where, in finest prophetic tradition he denounces racism. But NO ONE escapes his vivid denunciations, even his own congregation. Watch this clip and behold what it must have been like with the prophets of old, even Jesus.

Behold the prophet! No one escapes! In the end of the clip, his daughter who had stood against her Father’s zeal sings “Go Down Moses.” The choir director who had also opposed him likewise stands to sing. The seed is planted even as the prophet is led away by the police.