The Heavy Revy

“And he said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read it?””
‭‭Luke‬ ‭10‬:‭26‬ ‭LEB‬‬

The Bible is a fascinating book, to say the least. Rich, complex, ancient; it is a thing of wonder not only in terms of literary quality, but theological quality as well. Yet there is nearly two millennia between us and even the latest New Testament author.

If it’s true that we don’t see things as they are, but see them as we are, then the gapping historical chasm that exists between the modern believer and those of the first century is a component that becomes paramount to our contextual understanding of scripture and, therefore, our interpretation as well.

With this in mind, “How do you read it?”, becomes a rather pressing question.

“Have you forgotten the Deep Magic?” asked the Witch. “Let us say I have forgotten it,” answered Aslan gravely. “Tell us of this Deep Magic.”
—C.S. Lewis The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

If Jesus Himself were to ask me that question, if He were to feign memory loss and insist I inform Him of the Deep Magic, how would I answer? What would my response be?

How would I claim to read it?

If one of the biblical writers or a first century believer were to ask what I thought of a certain passage of scripture or the latest apostolic correspondence, how would my takeaway (my perception, interpretation, and comprehension) of the material stack up next to theirs?

They say hindsight is 20/20. But even historical clarity is affected by perspective and bias—by one’s filter. In other words, from what perspective and bias and through what filter is history, especially biblical history, being viewed?

The late Dr. Michael Heiser said:

“…It would be dishonest of us to claim that the biblical writers read and understood the text the way we do as modern people, or intended meanings that conform to theological systems created centuries after the text was written. Our context is not their context.

Seeing the Bible through the eyes of an ancient reader requires shedding the filters of our traditions and presumptions. They processed life in supernatural terms. Today’s Christian processes it by a mixture of creedal statements and modern rationalism. I want to help you recover the supernatural worldview of the biblical writers—the people who produced the Bible.

Filters are used to eliminate things in order to achieve a desired result.

Most of my education was conducted in this way—using filters. It was no sinister plot. It was just what it was. The content I learned was filtered through certain presumptions and traditions that ordered the material for me, that put it into a system that made sense to my modern mind. Verses that didn’t quite work with my tradition were “problem passages” that were either filtered out or consigned to the periphery of unimportance. I understand that a lot of well-meaning Bible students, pastors, and professors don’t look at how they approach the Bible that way. I know I didn’t. But it’s what happens. We view the Bible through the lens of what we know and what’s familiar.

Our traditions, however honorable, are not intrinsic to the Bible. They are systems we invent to organize the Bible. They are artificial. They are filters.

Once I’d been awakened to this, it struck me as faithless to use a filter. But throwing away my filters cost me the systems with which I’d ordered Scripture and doctrine in my mind. I was left with lots of fragments. It didn’t feel like it at the time, but that was the best thing that could have happened.

The facts of the Bible are just pieces—bits of scattered data. Our tendency is to impose order, and to do that we apply a filter. But we gain a perspective that is both broader and deeper if we allow ourselves to see the pieces in their own wider context. We need to see the mosaic created by the pieces.

The Bible is really a theological and literary mosaic. The pattern in a mosaic often isn’t clear up close. It may appear to be just a random assemblage of pieces. Only when you step back can you see the wondrous whole. Yes, the individual pieces are essential; without them there would be no mosaic. But the meaning of all the pieces is found in the completed mosaic. And a mosaic isn’t imposed on the pieces; it derives from them.”
—Dr. Michael Heiser The Unseen Realm

From this we see that the problem isn’t the Bible. The problem is the way we think about the Bible. Let’s explore this further.

Consider an oft quoted passage:

“”I have come to bring fire on the earth, and how I wish that it had been kindled already!

Do you think that I have come to grant peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! For from now on there will be five in one household, divided three against two and two against three. They will be divided, father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.””
‭‭Luke‬ ‭12‬:‭49‬, ‭51‬-‭53‬ ‭LEB‬‬

Fire and division: are they distinct or two sides of the same phenomenological coin? Some say Jesus is referring to His desire to bring judgement upon the earth. Others say He is speaking metaphorically of the spiritual polarization His coming has caused and will continue to provoke. While still others differ.

Yet all have this in common: they are the interpretive results of a theological filtration system.

The issue, it seems, is how to sort out which interpretation is correct. But that isn’t quite right either. Seeing as filters separate, it is possible for a filtration system to be partially correct. That is, to use a mathematics metaphor, they may find the solution but do so using the wrong formula or vice versa. Whichever the case, both the solution and the formula are necessary to understand the whole equation.

It does us no more good to arrive at the right answer but not know why or how we got there than it does to know why and how we got to the wrong one.

This becomes an even bigger issue when we realize that the formulas we apply to biblical problems are modern inventions that only make sense in our own context. In the case of the above quoted portion of Luke 12, we see this pointedly.

One important fact to bear in mind is just because certain things the Bible says do not make sense to us—that is, we find no direct correlation or relevance to our modern context—does not mean the same was true for the original hearers/readers. In this specific case, the audience to which Jesus was speaking, and predominately spoke to throughout his earthly ministry, were Judeans. Or, as the Old Testament puts it, the remnant of Israel. In short, Israelites.

They knew the Old Testament or Hebrew scriptures well. Even though many were functionally illiterate, the stories of their people were heard and the scripture read at the local synagogue. As such, when Jesus spoke of not coming to bring peace but a sword, a sword that would divide even families, there is a specific historical instance that would have come to mind.

“And Moses saw the people, that they were running wild because Aaron had allowed them to run wild, for a laughingstock among their enemies. And Moses stood at the entrance of the camp, and he said, “Whoever is for Yahweh, to me.” And all the sons of Levi were gathered to him. And he said to them, “Thus says Yahweh, the God of Israel, ‘Put each his sword on his side. Go back and forth from gate to gate in the camp, and kill, each his brother and each his friend and each his close relative.’ ” And the sons of Levi did according to the word of Moses, and from the people on that day about three thousand persons fell.”
‭‭Exodus‬ ‭32‬:‭25‬-‭28‬ ‭LEB‬‬

A rather intense passage but one that would have been well-known among the Judeans of Jesus’ day. Of the remnant that remained of the Kingdom of Judah were the Levites.

As the designated priesthood of Israel, they would have most likely passed down through the generations the story of how they came to be entrusted with this sacred responsibility. Be that as it may, Jesus was not advocating for another display of literal violence. His response to Peter in the Garden (Matt. 26:25) makes this clear.

It then becomes evident from the historical biblical context that Jesus is referring to the sharp polarization and divide following him will cause in even the closest of relationships. He is setting the same terms concerning loyalty to him as were set for those who claimed to be loyal to Yahweh during the Golden Calf incident: there is no middle ground. While the sword is metaphorical, the harsh relational standard—some might call it relational violence—is not, as Exodus 32:25-29 informs us.

The New Testament, in many respects, is not only a polemic against the empire of Rome, as well as a cosmic polemic against the powers of spiritual darkness (more on that in future posts), but commentary on the Old Testament. That is to say, much of what is recorded in the New Testament has Old Testament antecedents, a fact evidenced by both direct and indirect references. References that are often missed because they are filtered out by our doctrinal and theological systems.

To reiterate the sentiments expressed in the aforementioned quotation, modern filters are eisegetical tools used to assemble and fortify the structures of foregone conclusions. Theological filtration systems applied to the Biblical text create doctrinal blindspots and often betray interpretive and hermeneutical prejudices. In other words, we’ll never see what we’re unwilling to consider.

Theological filtration systems produce predictable results. They will seldom lead anywhere but to their predetermined conclusions. They are designed to do so. But, more often than not, even long-standing theological systems don’t know what to do with certain passages, passages that throw a wrench in the gears of their doctrinal mechanisms.

The irony is, when these “problem passages” are encountered, most so-called biblically based systems, rather than reassess their stances in accordance with what is actually found in the scripture, will either brush them aside, downplay them, or offer them a shallow and brief explanation.

Why? Because systems make us comfortable. Formulas help us relax. Algorithms allow us to switch off. Filters and systems are prized, even venerated, because they tell us we’re right—that our biases, our prejudices, and our perspectives are clearly correct and biblically backed.

There it is. There is the crux of the matter. This is why the rest of the biblical account in Luke’s gospel is as follows:

“And behold, a certain legal expert stood up to test him, saying, “Teacher, what must I do so that I will inherit eternal life?” And he said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read it?”

And he answered and said, “You shall love the Lord your God from all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have answered correctly. Do this and you will live.” But he, wanting to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

And Jesus replied and said, “A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who both stripped him and beat him. After inflicting blows on him, they went away, leaving him half dead. Now by coincidence a certain priest was going down on that road, and when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. And in the same way also a Levite, when he came down to the place and saw him, passed by on the opposite side.

But a certain Samaritan who was traveling came up to him and, when he saw him, had compassion. And he came up and bandaged his wounds, pouring on olive oil and wine, and he put him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And on the next day, he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him, and whatever you spend in addition, I will repay to you when I return.”

Which of these three do you suppose became a neighbor of the man who fell among the robbers?” So he said, “The one who showed mercy to him.” And Jesus said to him, “You go and do likewise.””
‭‭Luke‬ ‭10‬:‭25‬-‭37‬ ‭LEB‬‬

“How do you read it?” This legal expert’s theological filtration system failed to justify his prejudice, a prejudice of which Jesus was astutely aware. He knew the Deep Magic, but there was (and is) a Deeper Magic that he did not know—or perhaps didn’t want to.

Which begs the question: are our perspectives shaped by our filters or our filters by our perspectives? The answer: yes. Our perspectives create filters that function to reinforce our perspectives in a vicious theological cycle. A cycle that results in the truth being transformed by us rather than us by it. We assemble the pieces to our liking, completely unaware of the mosaic we have overlooked and subsequently deconstructed.

That is why questions like “How do you read it?” are so beneficial yet so jarring. They take us off auto-pilot. They rouse us from our slumber. They reveal the truth: that we’ve missed the forest for the trees. That we may know of the Deep Magic but we don’t know it.

“How do you read it?” Our answer to that question may tell us more than we’re ready to accept… but we’ll never see what we’re unwilling to consider.