Reading the Bible Like a Writer

As someone who writes, and someone who studies literature, I have been cursed with X-ray vision: I see the mechanics of everything I read on both a literary level and a nuts-and-bolts, how-does-it-work level.

You can probably relate: After studying poems for your English class, you might have to "switch off" the analytical part of your brain before turning to the day's Bible reading. After all, the Psalms are different from the works of Shelley or Keats.

But I'd argue that it isn't necessary to "switch off" your writer's mind before studying the Bible. In fact, it might even be beneficial. But how? Isn't it disrespectful, even sacrilegious, to read the Bible with the same mindset we might apply to fiction? Not necessarily. I believe this for several reasons.

First of all, reading from a different perspective inspires a new sense of wonder in the familiar tales we've heard dozens of times. Reading about Christ's death from a religious perspective is (dare I say it?) boring for the born-and-raised Christian. The Gospel may be good news, but it's also old news. God's mercy is new every morning, but the words in that beat-up Bible on our nightstand? Not so much.

But reading about Christ's life from a literary perspective inspires so much awe in even experienced Christians. It's just a great story, loaded with symbolic meaning. So there's this guy, who's human but also God, which sounds like an awesome story premise already. We see literary devices from the moment of His birth, and I'll just point out three for now:

• Foreshadowing: When pregnant Mary is turned away from all the inns, this foreshadows how Jesus would be rejected by the world in His adulthood.
• Juxtaposition: He's the King, but he's in a dirty smelly barnyard. This creates tension and curiosity.
• Symbolism: This newborn child (representative of innocence) is visited by shepherds, the lowliest of the low (representative of the baseness of humanity), who spread the word about his arrival--servant leaders, pastoral pastors.

Then, fast forward about thirty years, this guy becomes super popular and starts teaching these radical ideas and performing impossible feats. But the leaders of the people fear His power and plot to bring Him to an end. Great suspense. Then one of His closest friends betrays Him in exchange for money. Plot twist! We didn't see it coming, but when we look back on the traitor's past actions, it totally fits his character. So then our Hero is captured and sentenced to death.

The irony is stunning. Jesus is shown no mercy by the crowds during Passover, which is a celebration of God's ancient mercy on them. It's also a mirror moment, because they're about to be shown even greater mercy that will last forever. And it's beautiful symbolism, because like a sacrificial lamb, Jesus was perfect and innocent. Somehow, even though He was all-powerful and confronted with numerous threats and temptations, He never sinned. So when He dies, He takes all the sins of everyone on Himself. How that works, no one knows, but it's good story mechanics to leave a little mystery in the plot. And the most amazing thing is, the Hero knew all of this would happen. He knew He would die in the most painful possible way, and unjustly, at that. And He could have stopped it if He wanted to--He was all-powerful, remember? But He didn't, because He wanted everyone else to live.

If we saw this kind of sacrifice in the movies, we'd be crying in our popcorn. But when we read it in our Bibles, we don't. We take it as straight fact--which it is--but all the beautiful literary finesse and story value are thrown by the wayside. Good grief, do you think all that symbolism and irony was a coincidence? That everything just happened to occur in a way that made a perfect story? No. God intended it that way. And by ignoring the beauty of His Story, we become jaded. By putting the Bible on a literary pedestal clearly labeled "DO NOT TOUCH," we don't do it extra honor--we dishonor it. Truth doesn't have to be dry, and analysis isn't the same as criticism.

Second, by looking at the Bible like it's a history textbook (though honestly, few of us even read it that closely), we can easily fall prey to misinterpretation. Sometimes we forget that the Bible isn't a perfectly self-contained unit, and these events didn't occur in a vacuum. There is, as with every book, context and subtext and a target audience, which affect how the piece is written--or in this case, what commands were issued.

Sometimes looking at context helps us satisfy our curiosity on trivial issues: Why were the Israelites prohibited from eating certain foods or touching certain substances? Why were they considered "unclean" if they had a certain type of sore on their body? Modern science tells us that many of the processes involved with ceremonial cleanliness, such as washing with water or quarantining for certain amounts of time, actually prevent the spread of disease. God cares for His people. They didn't know what germs were or what caused sickness, so He set up a safety net for them.

Other times, it can save us from rebellion or doubt. In the book of 1 Peter, Peter discusses how slaves should act and how they should be treated (1 Peter 2:18-25). But why doesn't he condemn slavery altogether, one might ask? Slavery is an absolutely horrid thing, and if God doesn't oppose it, we may doubt His goodness or the truth of His Word. Well, you have to understand that slavery as we think of it--race-based kidnapping, forced labor, the impossibility of escape--isn't the "slavery" of the New Testament. In historical context, we see that Peter is discussing indentured servitude--someone in deep poverty might willingly pledge to be someone's servant for seven years, so that they might survive. After that, they could either choose to serve for the rest of their life, or go free. You could be born into servitude, but oftentimes it was a personal choice. Anyone might become an indentured servant, no matter their race or social class. It's likely God would condemn the kind of slavery seen in early American history--but that's not what Peter was discussing at all. Now that we know the context, we can read the passage with greater trust in God's goodness and the Bible's truth.

Not only that, but if you really want to understand God's Word, you can't look at it as an arbitrary book of rules and fairytales. You have to assume, as you would when reading a story, that there is a purpose behind everything included. The Bible is rational, something that even Christians forget. We become so consumed with what God says that we forget to wonder why He says it. The Bible is an infallible work of writing, so there are no unnecessary scenes or plot points. Every element works towards the theme of the piece. Why is the Book of Ecclesiastes necessary? It seems like the not-quite-coherent ramblings of a pessimistic king in his old age. If we read the Bible as if it's just something we have to take at face value, we might just shrug our shoulders and say, "It's true because it's in the Bible." (My old pastor would argue, "It's in the Bible because it's true.") But reading with purpose in mind, we see the meaninglessness of life when we know we're going to die anyway, the pointlessness of good behavior when we all end up in the same Hell. We see why the world needs Jesus in the first place. We see the purposelessness of our lives without Him.

So you see, reading the Bible from a writer's or literature major's perspective isn't irreverent. In fact, it's downright helpful.