Webmaster's
Note: This article came to us as a damaged file. In most cases,
the damage was easily fixed; such as spelling errors or non alphabetic
characters. However in several places it was impossible to determine
what was really being said. Rather than put words into the authors
speaking, we chose to leave the mistakes as we received them.
I
am very grateful for the invitation to give this particular lecture,
I should perhaps say that my reflections here arise not so much
from reading lots of books about the authority of the Bible-though
I have read some of the recent ones-but from the multiple experience
I find myself having, of studying and teaching the New Testament
at an academic level, of regular liturgical worship in which the
Bible plays a central part, and of evangelistic and pastoral work
in which, again, though not always so obviously, the Bible is at
or at least near the heart of what one is doing. What I want to
Offer to you has therefore something of the mood, for me, of reflection
on reality. I am trying to understand what it is that I am doing,
not least so that I can do it (I hope) less badly, in a less muddled
fashion. But I hope that this will not give you the impression
that the issues are private to myself. I believe that they are
highly important if we are to be the people that we are supposed
to be, as Christians in whatever sphere of life.
The question before us, then, is: how can the Bible be authoritative?
This way of putting it carries deliberately, two different though
related meanings, and I shall look at them in turn. First, how can
there be such a thing as an authoritative book? What sort of a claim
are we making about a book when we say that it is 'authoritative'?
Second, by what means can the Bible actually exercise its authority?
How is it to be used so that its authority becomes effective? The
first question subdivides further, and I want to argue two things
as we took at it. (1) I shall argue that usual views of the Bible,
including usual evangelical views of the Bible-are actually too low,
and do
not give it the sufficient weight that it ought to have.
(2) I shall then suggest a different way of envisaging authority
from that which I think most Christians normally take, Under the
second, I shall address various issues that arise when we consider
how the Bible can actually do the job that, as Christians, we claim
God has given it to do. This will involve looking at biblical authority
in relation, particularly, to the church's task and to the church's
own life.
AN AUTHORITATIVE BOOK?
Authority?
Our generation has a problem about authority. In church and in state
we use the word 'authority' in different ways, some positive and
some negative. We use it in secular senses. We say of a great footballer
that he stamped his authority on the game. Or we say of a great musician
that he or she gave an authoritative performance of a particular
concerto. Within more structured social gatherings the question 'Who's
in charge?’ has particular function. For instance, if someone
came into a lecture-room and asked 'Who's in charge?', the answer
would presumably either the lecturer or the chairman, if any. If,
however, a group of people went out to dinner at a restaurant and
somebody suddenly came in and said, 'Who's in charge here?’ the
question might not actually make any sense. We might be a bit puzzled
as to what authority might mean in that structure. Within a more
definite structure, however, such as a law court or a college or
a business, the question ‘Who's in charge?’ or ‘What
does authority mean here?’ would have a very definite meaning,
and could expect a fairly clear answer. The meaning of 'authority',
then, varies considerably according to the context within which the
discourse is taking place. It is important to realize this from the
start, not least because one of my central contentions is going to
be that we have tended to let the word 'authority' be the fixed point
and have adjusted 'scripture' to meet it, instead of the other way
round.
Authority to the Church
Within the church, the question of what we mean by authority has
had particular focal points. It has had practical questions attached
to it. How are things to be organized within church life? What are
the boundaries of allowable behavior and doctrine? In particular,
to use the sixteenth-century formulation, what are those things 'necessary
to be believed upon pain of damnation'? But it has also had theoretical
sides to it. What are we looking for when we are looking for authority
in the church? Where would we find it? How would we know when we
had found it? What would we do with authoritative documents, people
or whatever, if we had them? It is within that context that the familiar
debates have taken place, advocating the relative weight to be given
to scripture, tradition and reason, or (if you like, and again in
sixteenth-century terms) to Bible, Pope and Scholar, Within the last
century or so we have seen a fourth, to rival those three, namely
emotion or feeling. Various attempts are still being made to draw
up satisfactory formulations of how these things fit together in
some sort of a hierarchy: ARCIC is here one of several such attempts.
Evangelical Views
Most heirs of the Reformation, not least evangelicals, take if for
granted that we are to give scripture the primary place and that
everything else has to be lined up in relation to scripture. There
is, indeed, an evangelical assumption, common in some circles, that
evangelicals do not have any tradition, We simply open the scripture,
read what it says, and take it as applying to ourselves: there the
matter ends, and we do not have any 'tradition'. This is rather like
the frequent Anglican assumption (being an Anglican myself I rather
cherish this) that Anglicans have no doctrine peculiar to themselves:
it is merely that if something is true the Church of England believes
it. This, though not itself a refutation of the claim not to have
any ‘tradition’, is for the moment sufficient indication
of the inherent unlikeliness of the claim's truth, and I am confident
that most people, facing the question explicitly, will not wish that
the claim be pressed. But I still find two things to be the case,
both of which give me some cause for concern. First, there is an
implied, and quite unwarranted, positivism: we imagine that we are
'reading the text, straight', and that if somebody disagrees with
us it must be because they, unlike we ourselves, are secretly using
'presuppositions' of this or that sort. This is simply naive, and
actually astonishingly arrogant and dangerous. It fuels the second
point, which is that evangelicals often use the phrase 'authority
of scripture' when they mean the authority of evangelical, or Protestant,
theology, since the assumption is made that we (evangelicals, or
Protestants) are the ones who know and believe what the Bible is
saying. And, though there is more than a grain of truth in such claims,
they are by no means the whole truth, and to imagine that they are
is to move from theology to ideology. If we are not careful, the
phrase 'authority of scripture' can, by such routes, come to mean
simply 'the authority of evangelical tradition, as opposed to Catholic
or rationalist Ones.'
Biblical Authority: the Problem
When people in the church talk about authority they are very often
talking about controlling people or situations. They want to make
sure that everything is regulated properly, that the church does
not go off the rails doctrinally or ethically, that correct ideas
and practices are upheld and transmitted to the next generation.
'Authority' is the place where we go to find out the correct answers
to key questions such as these. This notion, however, runs into all
kinds of problems when we apply it to the Bible. Is that really what
the Bible is for? Is it there to control the church? Is it there
simply to look up the correct answers to questions that we, for some
reason, already know? As we read the Bible we discover that the answer to these questions
seems in fact to be 'no', Most of the Bible does not consist of rules
and regulations-lists of commands to be Obeyed, Nor does it consist
of creeds-list of things to be believed. And often, when there ARE
lists of rules or of creedal statements, they seem to be somewhat
incidental to the purpose of the writing in question. One might even
say, in one (admittedly limited) sense, that there is no biblical
doctrine of the authority of the Bible. For the most part the Bible
itself is much more concerned with doing a whole range of other things
rather than talking about itself There are, of course, key passages,
especially at transition moments like 2 Timothy or 2 Peter, where
the writers are concerned that the church of the next generation
should be properly founded and based. At precisely such points we
find statements emerging about the place of scripture within the
life of the church. But such a doctrine usually has to be inferred.
it may well be possible to infer it, but it is not (for instance)
what Isaiah or Paul are talking about. Nor is it, for the most part,
what Jesus is talking about in the gospels. He isn't constantly saying,
'What about scripture’. sometimes, but it is not the central
thing that we have sometimes made it. And the attempt by many evangelicals
to argue a general doctrine of scripture out of the use made of the
Old Testament in the New is doomed to failure, despite its many strong
points, precisely because the relation between the Old and New Testaments
is not the same as the relation between the New Testament and ourselves.
If we look in scripture to find out where in practice authority is
held to lie, the answer on page after page does not address our regular
antitheses at all. As we shall see, in the Bible all authority lies
with God himself
The question of biblical authority, of how there can be such a thing
as an authoritative Bible, is not, then, as simple as it might look.
In order to raise it at all , we have to appreciate that it is a
sub-question of some much more general questions. (1) How can any
text function as authoritative' Once one gets away from the idea
of a rule-book such as might function as authoritative in, say ,
a golf club, this question gets progressively harder. (2) How can
any ancient text function as authoritative? If you were a Jew, wanting
to obey the Torah (or, perhaps, obey the Talmud) you would find that
there were all sorts of difficult questions about how a text, written
so many years ago, can function: as authoritative today. Actually,
it is easier with the Talmud than with the Bible because the Talmud
is designed very specifically to be a rule book for human beings
engaged in life in a particular sort of community. But much of what
we call the Bible-the Old and New Testaments--is not a rule book;
it is narrative. That raises a further question (3) How can an ancient
narrative text be authoritative? How, for instance, can the book
of Judges, or the book of Acts, be authoritative? It is one thing
to go to your commanding officer first thing in the morning and have
a string of commands barked at you. But what would you do if, instead,
he began 'Once upon a time . . . .
These questions press so acutely that the church has, down the
centuries, tried out all sorts of ways of getting round them,
and of thereby
turning the apparently somewhat recalcitrant material in the Bible
itself into material that can more readily be used as 'authoritative'
in the senses demanded by this or that period of church history I
want to look at three such methods and suggest that each in its own
way actually belittles the Bible, thereby betraying a low doctrine
of inspiration in practice, whatever may be held in theory.
Timeless Truth?
A regular response to these problems is to say that the Bible is
a repository of timeless truth. There are some senses in which that
is true. But the sense in which it is normally meant is certainly
not true. The whole Bible from Genesis to Revelation is culturally
conditioned. It is all written in the language of particular times,
and evokes the cultures in which it came to birth. It seems, when
we get close up to it, as though, if we grant for a moment that in
some sense or other God has indeed inspired this book, he has not
wanted to give us an abstract set of truths unrelated to space and
time he has wanted to give us something rather different, which is
not (in Our post-enlightenment world) nearly so easy to handle as
such a set of truths might seem to be. The problem of this question:
And at this point in gospels is one particular instant: the argument
evangelicals often lurch towards Romans as a sort of safe place where
they can find a basic systematic theology in the light of which one
can read everything else. I have often been assured by evangelical
colleagues in theological disciplines other than my own that my perception
is indeed true: namely, that the Protestant and evangelical tradition
has not been half so good on the gospels as it has been on the epistles.
We don't quite know what to do with them. Because, I think, we have
come to them as we have come to the whole Bible, looking for particular
answers to particular questions- And we have, thereby made the Bible
into something which it basically is not. I remember a well-known
Preacher saying that he thought a lot of Christians used the Bible
as an unsorted edition of Daily Light. It really ought to be arranged
into neat little devotional chunks, but it happens to have got all
muddled up. The same phenomenon occurs, at a rather different level,
when People treat it as an unsorted edition of Calvin's Institutes,
the Westminster Confession the UCCF Basis of Faith, or the so-called
'Four Spiritual Laws'. But to treat the Bible like that is, in fact,
simply to take your place in a very long tradition of Christians
who have tried to make the Bible into a set of abstract truths and
rules--abstract devotional doctrinal, or evangelistic snippets here
and there.
This problem goes back ultimately, I think, to a failure on the
part of the Reformers to work out fully their proper insistence
on the
literal sense of scripture as the real focus of God's revelation,
the place where God was really speaking in scripture. The literal
sense seems fine when it comes to saying, and working with, what
(for instance) Paul actually meant in Romans. (This itself can actually
be misleading too, but we let it pass for the moment.) It’s
fine when you're attacking mediaeval allegorizing of one sort or
another, But the Reformers, I think, never worked out a satisfactory
answer to the question, how can the literal sense of stories-which
purport to describe events in (say) first century Palestine-how can
that be authoritative? If we are not careful, the appeal to 'timeless
truths' not only distorts the Bible itself, making it into the sort
of book it manifestly is not, but also creeps back, behind the Reformers'
polemic against allegory, into a neo-allegorization which is all
the more dangerous for being unrecognized.
Witness to Primary Events?
So, more recently, we have seen attempts on the part of many scholars
to make this very difficult text authoritative by suggesting that
it is authoritative insofar as it witnesses to primary events. This
emphasis, associated not least with the post-war biblical theology
movement, at least has the merit of taking seriously the historical
setting, the literal sense of the text. The problem about that, however,
can be seen quite easily. Supposing we actually dug up Pilate's court
records, and supposing we were able to agree that they gave a fair
transcript of Jesus' trial. Would they be authoritative in any of
the normal senses in which Christians have claimed that the Bible
is authoritative? I think not. A variation on this theme occurs when
people say that the Bible (or the New Testament) is authoritative
because it witnesses to early Christian experience. There is a whole
range of modern scholarship that has assumed that the aim of New
Testament study is to find the early Christians at work or at prayer
or at evangelism or at teaching. The Bible then becomes authoritative
because it lets us in on what it was like being an early Christian-and
it is the early Christian experience that is then treated as the
real authority, the real norm. In both of these variations, then,
authority has shifted from the Bible itself to the historically reconstructed
event or experience. We are not really talking about the authority
of the Bible, at all.
Timeless Function
Another (related) way in which the Bible has been used, with the
frequent implication that it is in such use that its authority consists,
is in the timeless functions which it is deemed to perform. For Bultmann,
the New Testament functioned (among other things) as issuing the
timeless call to decision, For Ignatius and those who have taught
Jesuit spirituality, it can be used in a timeless sense within pastoral
practice. Now this is not a million miles from certain things which
I shall be suggesting later on in this lecture as appropriate uses
of scripture. But at the level of theory it is vital that we say,
once more, that such uses in and of themselves are not what is primarily
meant when we say that the Bible is authoritative: or, if they are,
that they thereby belittle the Bible, and fail to do justice to the
book as we actually have it. All three methods I have outlined involve
a certain procedure which ultimately seems to be illegitimate: that
one attempts, as it were, to boil off certain timeless truths, models,
or challenges into a sort of ethereal realm which is not anything
immediately to do with space-time reality in order then to carry
them across from the first century to any other given century and
re-liquefy them (I hope I'm getting my physics right at this point),
making them relevant to a new situation. Once again, it is not really
the Bible that is being regarded as the 'real' authority. It is something
else.
Evangelicals and Biblical Authority
It seems to be that evangelicalism has flirted with, and frequently
held long-running love affairs with all of these different methods
of using the Bible, all of these attempts to put into practice what
turns out to be quite an inarticulate sense that it is somehow the
real focus of authority. And that has produced what one can now see
in many so-called scriptural churches around the world-not least
in North America. It seems to be the case that the more that you
insist that you are based on the Bible, the more fissiparous you
become; the church splits up into more and more little groups, each
thinking that they have got biblical truth right. And in my experience
of teaching theological students I find that very often those from
a conservative evangelical background opt for one such view as the
safe one, the one with which they will privately stick, from which
they will criticize the others. Failing that, they lapse into the
regrettable (though sometimes comprehensible) attitude of temporary
book-learning followed by regained positivism: we will learn for
a while the sort of things that the scholars write about, then we
shall get back to using the Bible straight. There may be places and
times where that approach is the only possible one, but I am quite
sure that the Christian world of 1989 is not among them. There is
a time to grow up in reading the Bible as in everything else. There
is a time to take the doctrine of inspiration seriously. And my contention
here is that evangelicalism has usually done no better than those
it sometimes attacks in taking inspiration seriously. Methodologically,
evangelical handling of scripture has fallen into the same traps
as most other movements, even if we have found ways of appearing
to extricate ourselves.
The Belittling of the Bible
The problem with all such solutions as to how to use the Bible is
that they belittle the Bible and exalt something else. Basically
they imply and this is what I mean when I say that they offer too
low a view of scripture-that God has, after all, given us the wrong
sort of book and it is our job to turn it into the right sort of
book by engaging in these hermeneutical moves, translation procedures
or whatever.
They imply that the real place where God has revealed himself-the
real focus of authority and revelation-is, in fact, somewhere else;
somewhere else in the past in an event that once took place, or somewhere
else in a timeless sphere which is not really hooked into our world
at all out touches it tangentially, or somewhere in the present in
'my own experience’, or somewhere in the future in some great
act which is yet to come. And such views, I suggest, rely very heavily
on either tradition (including evangelical tradition) or reason,
often playing off one against the other, and lurching away from scripture
into something else. I have a suspicion that most of you are as familiar
with this whole process as I am. If you are not, you would be within
a very short time of beginning to study theology at any serious level.
My conclusion, then, is this: that the regular views of scripture
and its authority which we find not only outside but also inside
evangelicalism fail to do justice to what the Bible actually is-a
book, an ancient book, an ancient narrative book. They function by
tuning that book into something else, and by implying thereby that
God has, after all, given us the wrong sort of book. This is a low
doctrine of inspiration, whatever heights are claimed for it and
whatever words beginning with 'in-' are used to label it. I propose
that what we need to do is to re-examine the concept of authority
itself and see if we cannot do a bit better.
The Bible and Biblical Authority
All Authority is God's Authority
So, secondly within the first half of this lecture, I want to suggest
that scripture's own view of authority focuses on the authority of
God himself. (I recall a well-known lecturer once insisting that
'there can be no authority other than scripture', and thumping the
tub so completely that I wanted to ask 'but what about God?' If we
think for a moment what we are actually saying when we use the phrase
'authority of scripture', we must surely acknowledge that this is
a shorthand way of saying that. Though authority belongs to God,
God has somehow invested this authority in scripture, And that is
a complex claim. It is not straightforward, When people use the phrase
'authority of scripture' they very often do not realize this. Worse,
they often treat the word 'authority' as the absolute, the fixed
point, and make the word 'scripture* the thing which is moving around
trying to find a home against it. In other words, they think they
know what authority is and then they say that scripture is that thing.
I want to suggest that we should try it the other way around. Supposing
we said that we know what scripture is (we have it here, after all),
and that we should try and discover what authority might be in the
light of that. Granted that this is the book that we actually have,
and that we want to find out what its 'authority' might mean, we
need perhaps to forswear our too-ready ideas about 'authority' and
let them be remolded in the light of scripture itself-not just in
the light of the biblical statements about authority but in the light
of the whole Bible, or the whole New Testament, itself. What are
we saying about the concept of 'authority' itself if we assert that
this book-not the book we are so good at turning this book into-is
'authoritative'?
Beginning, though, with explicit scriptural evidence about authority
itself, we find soon enough-this is obvious but is often ignored-that
all authority does indeed belong to God. 'In the beginning, God created
the heavens and the earth'. God says this, God says that, and it
is done. Now if that is not authoritative, I don't know what is.
God calls Abraham; he speaks authoritatively. God exercises authority
in great dynamic events (in Exodus, the Exile and Return), In the
New Testament, we discover that authority is ultimately invested
in Christ: ‘all authority has been given to me in heaven and
on earth'. Then, perhaps to our surprise, authority is invested in
the apostles: Paul wrote whole letters in order to make this point
crystal clear (in a manner of speaking). This authority, we discover,
has to do with the Holy Spirit. And the whole church is then, and
thereby, given authority to work within God's world as his accredited
agent(s). From an exceedingly quick survey, we are forced to say:
authority, according to the Bible itself, is vested in God himself,
Father, Son and Spirit.
The Purpose and Character of God's Authority
But what is God doing with his authority? We discover, as we look
at the Bible itself, that God’s model of authority is not like
that of the managing director over the business, not like that of
the governing body over the college, not like that of the police.
Or the law courts who have authority over society. There is a more
subtle thing going on. God is not simply organizing the world in
a certain way such as we would recognize from any of those human
models. He is organizing it-if that's the right word at all-through
Jesus and in the power of the Spirit. And the notion of God's authority,
which we have to understand before we understand what we mean by
the authority of scripture, is based on the fact that this God is
the loving, wise, creator, redeemer God, And his authority is his
sovereign exercise of those powers; his loving and wise creation
and redemption, What is he doing? He is not simply organizing the
world. He is, as we see and know in Christ and by the Spirit, judging
and remaking his world. What he does authoritatively he dots with
this intent. God is not a celestial information service to whom you
can apply for answers on difficult questions. Nor is he a heavenly
ticket agency to whom you can go for moral or doctrinal permits or
passports to salvation. He does not stand outside the human process
and merely comment on it or merely issue you with certain tickets
that you might need. Those views would imply either a deist's God
or a legalist's God, not the God who is revealed in Jesus Christ
and the Spirit.
And it must be said that a great many views of biblical authority
imply one or other of those sub-Christian alternatives. But, once
we say that God's authority is like that, we find that there is a
challenge issued to the world's view of authority and to the church's
view of authority. Authority is not the power to control people,
and crush them, and keep them in little boxes. The church often tries
to do that-to tidy people up. Nor is the Bible as the vehicle of
God's authority meant to be information for the legalist. We have
to apply some central reformation insights to the concept of authority
itself. It seems to me that the Reformation, once more, did not go
quite far enough in this respect, and was always in danger of picking
up the mediaeval view of authority and simply continuing it with,
as was often said, a paper pope instead of a human one. Rather, God's
authority vested in scripture is designed, as all God's authority
is designed, to liberate human beings, to judge and condemn evil
and sin in the world in order to set people free to be fully human.
That's what God is in the business of doing. That is what his authority
is therefore. And when we use a shorthand phrase like 'authority
of scripture' that is what we ought to be meaning. It is an authority
with this shape and character, this purpose and goal.
How, in the Bible does God exercise his authority?
Then, we have to ask, if we are to get to the authority of scripture.
How does God exercise that authority' Again and again, in the biblical
story itself we see that he does so through human agents anointed
and equipped by the Holy Spirit. And this is itself an expression
of his love; because he does not will, simply to come into the world
in a blinding flash of light and obliterate all opposition. He wants
to reveal himself meaningfully within the space/time universe not
just passing it by tangentially; to reveal himself in judgment and
in mercy in a way which will save people. So, we get the prophets.
We get obedient writers in the Old Testament, not only prophets but
those who wrote the psalms and so on. As the climax of the story
we get Jesus himself as the great prophet, but how much more than
a prophet. And, we then get Jesus' people as the anointed ones. And
within that sequence there is a very significant passage, namely
I Kings 22. Micaiah the son of Imlah (one of the great prophets who
didn't leave any writing behind him but who certainly knew what his
business was) stands up against the wicked king, Ahab. The false
prophets of Israel at the time were saying to Ahab, 'Go up against
Ramoth-gilead and fight and you will triumph. Yahweh will give it
into your hand'. This is especially interesting, because the false
prophets appear to have everything going for them, They are quoting
Deuteronomy 33-one of them makes horns and puts them on his head
and says, 'with these you will crush the enemy until they are overthrown'.
They had scripture on their side, so it seemed. They had tradition
on their side; after all, Yahweh was the God of Battles and he would
fight for Israel, They had reason on their side; Israel and Judah
together can beat these northern enemies quite easily. But they didn't
have God on their side. Micaiah had stood in the council of the Lord
and in that private, strange, secret meeting he had learned that
even the apparent scriptural authority which these prophets had,
and the apparent tradition and reason, wasn't good enough; God wanted
to judge Ahab and so save Israel. And so God delegated his authority
to the prophet Micaiah who, inspired by the Spirit, stood humbly
in the council of God and then stood boldly in the councils of men.
He put his life and liberty on the line, like Daniel and so many
others. That is how God brought his authority to bear on Israel:
not by revealing to them a set of timeless truths, but by delegating
his authority to obedient men through whose words he brought judgment
and salvation to Israel and the world.
And how much more must we say of Jesus. Jesus the great prophet;
Jesus who rules from the cross in judgment and love; Jesus who says:
all authority is given to me, so you go and get on with the job.
I hope the irony of that has not escaped you. So too in Acts 1, we
find: God has all authority . . . so that you will receive power.
Again, the irony. How can we resolve that irony? By holding firmly
to what the New Testament gives us, which is the strong theology
of the authoritative Holy Spirit. Jesus' people are to be the anointed
ones through whom God still works authoritatively. And then, in order
that the church may be the church-may be the people of God for the
world-God, by that same Holy Spirit, equips men in the first generation
to write the new covenant documentation. This is to be the new covenant
documentation which gives the foundation charter and the characteristic
direction and identity to the people of God, who are to be the people
of God for the world. It is common to say in some scholarly circles
that the evangelists, for instance, didn't know they were writing
scripture. One of the gains of modern scholarship is that we now
see that to be a mistake. Redaction criticism has shown that Matthew,
Mark, Luke and John were writing what they were writing in order
that it might be the foundation documentation for the church of their
day and might bear God's authority in doing so. And a book which
carries God's authority to be the foundation of the church for the
world is what I mean by scripture. I think they knew what they were
doing.
Thus it is that through the spoken and written authority
of anointed human beings God brings his authority to bear on his
people and his
world. Thus far, we have looked at what the Bible says about how
God exercises his judging and saving authority. And it includes (the
point with which in fact we began) the delegation of his authority,
in some sense, to certain writings. But this leads us to more questions.
How does God exercise his authority through the Bible?
When we turn the question round, however, and ask it the other way
about, we discover just what a rich concept of authority we are going
to need if we are to do justice to this book. The writings written
by these people, thus led by the Spirit, are not for the most part,
as we saw, the sort of things we would think of as 'authoritative'.
They art mostly narrative; and we have already run up against the
problem how can a story, a narrative, be authoritative? Somehow,
the authority which God has invested in this book is an authority
that is wielded and exercised through the people of God telling and
retelling their story as the story of the world, telling the covenant
story as the true story of creation. Somehow, this authority is also
wielded through his people singing psalms, Somehow, it is wielded
(it seems) in particular through God's people telling the story of
Jesus. We must look, then, at the question of stories. What sort
of authority might they possess?
The Authority of a Story
There are various ways in which stories might
be thought to possess authority. Sometimes a story is told so that
the actions of its characters
may be imitated. It was because they had that impression that some
early Fathers, embarrassed by the possibilities inherent in reading
the Old Testament that way, insisted upon allegorical exegesis. More
subtly, a story can be told with a view to creating a generalized
ethos which may then be perpetuated this way or that. The problem
with such models, popular in fact though they are within Christian
reading of scripture, is that they are far too vague: they constitute
a hermeneutical grab-bag or lucky dip. Rather, I suggest that stories
in general, and certainly the biblical story, has a shape and a goal
that must be observed and to which appropriate response must be made.
But what might this appropriate response look like? Let me offer
you a possible model, which is not in fact simply an illustration
but actually corresponds, as I shall argue, to some important features
of the biblical story, which (as I have been suggesting) is that
which God has given to his people as the means of his exercising
his authority, Suppose there exists a Shakespeare play whose fifth
act had been lost. The first four acts provide, let us suppose, such
a wealth of characterization, such a crescendo of excitement within
the plot, that it is generally agreed that the play ought to be staged.
Nevertheless, it is felt inappropriate actually to write a fifth
act once and for all: it would freeze the play into one form, and
commit Shakespeare as it were to being prospectively responsible
for work not in fact his own. Better, it might be felt, to give the
key parts to highly trained, sensitive and experienced Shakespearian
actors, who would immerse themselves in the first four acts, and
in the language and culture of Shakespeare and his time, and who
would then be told to work out a fifth act for themselves,
Consider the result. The first four acts, existing as they did, would
be the undoubted 'authority' for the task in hand. That is, anyone
could Bible, be properly object to the new improvisation on the grounds
that this or that character was now behaving inconsistently, or that
this or that sub-plot or theme, adumbrated earlier, had not reached
its proper resolution. This 'authority' of the first four acts would
not consist in an implicit command that the actors should repeat
the earlier pans of the play over and over again, It would consist
in the fact of an as yet unfinished drama, which contained its own
impetus, its own forward movement, which demanded to be concluded
in the proper manner but which required of the actors a responsible
entering in to the story as it stood, in order first to understand
how the threads could appropriately be drawn together, and then to
put that understanding into effect by speaking and acting with both
innovation and consistency.
This model could and perhaps should be adapted further; it offers
in fact quite a range of possibilities. Among the detailed moves
available within this model, which I shall explore and pursue elsewhere,
is the possibility of seeing the five acts as follows: (1) Creation;
(2) Fall; (3) Israel; (4) Jesus. The New Testament would then form
the first scene in the fifth act, giving hints as well (Rom 8; 1
Car 15; pans of the Apocalypse) of how the play is supposed to end.
The church would then live under the 'authority' of the extant story,
being required to offer something between an improvisation and an
actual performance of the final act. Appeal could always be made
to the inconsistency of what was being offered with a major theme
or characterization in the earlier material. Such an appeal-and such
an offering!-would of course require sensitivity of a high order
to the whole nature of the story and to the ways in which it would
be (of course) inappropriate simply to repeat verbatim passages from
earlier sections. Such sensitivity (cashing out the model in terms
of church life) is precisely what one would have expected to be required;
did we ever imagine that the application of biblical authority ought
to be something that could be done by a well-programmed computer?
Old Testament, New Testament
The model already enables us to add a footnote, albeit an important
one. The Old Testament, we begin to see more clearly, is not the
book of the covenant people of God in Christ in the same sense that
the New Testament is, The New Testament is written to be the charter
for the people of the creator God in the time between the first and
second comings of Jesus; the Old Testament forms the story of the
earlier acts, which are (to be sure) vital for understanding why
Act 4, and hence Act 5, are what they are, but not at ail appropriate
to be picked up and hurled forward into Act 5 without more ado. The
Old Testament has the authority that an earlier act of the play would
have, no more, no less. This is, of course, a demand for a more carefully
worked out view of the senses in which the Old Testament is, and/or
is not, 'authoritative' for the life of the church; I do not think
that my model has settled the question once and for all, though I
believe it offers a creative way forward in understanding at least
the shape of the problem. At the same time, the suggestion forms
a counter-proposal to the suggestion of I D G Dunn in chapter 3 of
his book, The Living Word. There he implies, and sometimes states
specifically, that since Jesus and Paul treated the Old Testament
with a mixture of respect and cavalier freedom, we should do the
same-with the New Testament!6 But this would only hold if we knew
in advance that there had been, between the New Testament and ourselves,
a break in (for want of a better word) dispensation comparable to
the evident break in dispensation between Acts 3 and 4, between Old
Testament and Jesus. And we know no such thing,
Thus, there is a hard thing which has to be said here, and it is
this: that there is a sense in which the Old Testament is not the
book of the church in the same way that the New Testament is the
book of the church, Please do not misunderstand me. The Old Testament
is in all sorts of important senses reaffirmed by Paul and Jesus
and so on-it is the book of the people of God, God's book, God's
word etc. But, the Old Testament proclaims itself to be the beginning
of that story which has now reached its climax in Jesus; and, as
the letter to the Hebrews says, 'that which is old and wearing out
is ready to vanish away', referring to the temple. But it is referring
also to all those bits of the Old Testament which were good (they
weren't bad, I'm not advocating a Marcionite position, cutting off
the Old Testament) but, were there for a time as Paul argues very
cogently, as in Galatians 3. The New Testament, building on what
God did in the Old, is now the covenant charter for the people of
God. We do not have a temple, we do not have sacrifices-at least,
not in the old Jewish sense of either of those. Both are translated
into new meanings in the New Testament, We do not have kosher laws.
We do not require that our male children be circumcised if they are
to be part of the people of God, We do not keep the seventh day of
the week as the Sabbath, Those were the boundary markers which the
Old Testament laid down for the time when the people of God was one
nation, one geographical entity, with one racial and cultural identity.
Now that the gospel has gone worldwide we thank God that he prepared
the way like that; but it is the New Testament now which is the charter
for the church.
The effect of this authority
But this means that the New Testament is not merely a true commentary
on Christianity. It has been pointed out in relation to Warfield's
theological position that Warfield was always in danger of saying
that Christianity would be totally true and would totally work even
if there weren't a Bible to tell us all about it (but that it so
happens that we have set an authoritative book which does precisely
that, from as it were the sidelines). But, according to Paul in Romans
15 and elsewhere, the Bible is itself a key part of God's plan. It
is not merely a divinely given commentary on the way salvation works
(or whatever); the Bible is part of the means by which he puts his
purposes of judgment and salvation to work. The Bible is made up,
all through, of writings of those who, like Micaiah ben Imlah stood
humbly in the councils of God and then stood boldly, in their writing,
in the councils of men.
The Bible, then, is designed to function through human beings,
through the church, through people who, living still by the Spirit,
have
their life molded by this Spirit-inspired book, What for? Well, as
Jesus said in John 20, 'As the Father sent me, even so I send you'.
He sends the church into the world, in other words, to be and do
for the world what he was and did for Israel. There, I suggest, is
the key hermeneutical bridge. By this means we are enabled to move
from the bare story-line that speaks of Jesus as the man who lived
and died and did these things in Palestine 2,000 years ago, into
an agenda for the church. And that agenda is the same confrontation
with the world that Jesus had with Israel a confrontation involving
judgment and mercy. It is a paradoxical confrontation because it
is done with God's authority. It is not done with the authority that
we reach for so easily, an authority which will manipulate, or crush,
or control, or merely give information about the world. But, rather,
it is to be done with an authority with which the church can authentically
speak God's words of judgment and mercy to the world. We are not,
then, entering into the world's power games. That, after all, is
what Peter tried to do in the garden with his sword, trying to bring
in the kingdom of God in the same way that the world would like to
do it. The world is always trying to lure the church into playing
the game by its (the world's) rules. And the church is all too often
eager to do this, not least by using the idea of the authority of
scripture as a means to control people, to force them into little
boxes. Those little boxes often owe far more, in my experience, to
cultural conditioning of this or that sort, than to scripture itself
as the revelation of the loving, creator and redeemer God.
Authority in the church, then, means the church's authority, with
scripture in its hand and heart, to speak and act for God in his
world. It is not simply that we may say, in the church, 'Are we allowed
to do this or that?' 'Where are the lines drawn for our behavior?'
Or, 'Must we believe the following 17 doctrines if we are to be really
sound?' God wants the church to lift up its eyes and see the field
ripe for harvest, and to go out, armed with the authority of scripture;
not just to get its own life right within a Christian ghetto, but
to use the authority of scripture to declare to the world authoritatively
that Jesus is Lord. And, since the New Testament is the covenant
charter of the people of God, the Holy Spirit, I believe, desires
and longs to do this task in each generation by reawakening people
to the freshness of that covenant, and hence summoning them to fresh
covenant tasks. The phrase 'authority of scripture', therefore, is
a sort of shorthand for the fact that the creator and covenant God
uses this book as his means of equipping and calling the church for
these tasks. And this is, I believe, the true biblical context of
the biblical doctrine of authority, which is meant to enable us in
turn to be Micaiahs, in church and how much more in society: so that,
in other words, we may be able to stand humbly in the councils of
God, in order then to stand boldly in the councils of men. How may
we do that? By soaking ourselves in scripture, in the power and strength
and leading of the Spirit, in order that we may then speak freshly
and with authority to the world of this same creator God.
Why is authority like this? Why does it have to be like that? Because
God (as in Acts I and Matthew 28, which we looked at earlier) wants
to catch human beings up in the work that he is doing. He doesn't
want to do it by-passing us; he wants us to be involved in his work.
And as we are involved, so we ourselves are being remade. He doesn't
give us the Holy Spirit in order to make us infallible-blind and
dumb servants who merely sit there and let the stuff flow through
us. So, he doesn't simply give us a rule book so that we could just
thumb through and look it up. He doesn't create a church where you
become automatically sinless on entry. Because, as the goal and end
of his work is redemption, so the means is redemptive also: judgment
and mercy, nature and grace. God does not, then, want to put people
into little boxes and keep them safe and sound. It is, after all,
possible to be so sound that you're sound asleep. I am not in favor
of unsoundness; but soundness means health, and health means growth,
and growth means life and vigor and new directions. The little boxes
in which you put people and keep them under control are called coffins.
We read scripture not in order to avoid life and growth. God forgive
us that we have done that in some of our traditions, Nor do we read
scripture in order to avoid thought and action, or to be crushed,
or squeezed, or confined into a de-humanizing shape, but in order
to die and rise again in our minds. Because, again and again, we
find that, as we submit to scripture, as we wrestle with the bits
that don't make sense, and as we hand through to a new sense that
we haven't thought of or seen before, God breathes into our nostrils
his own breath-the breath of life. And we become living beings-a
church recreated in his image, more fully human, thinking, alive
beings.
That, in fact, is (I believe) one of the reasons why God has given
us so much story, so much narrative in scripture. Story authority,
as Jesus knew only too well, is the authority that really works.
Throw a rule book at people's head, or offer them a list of doctrines,
and they can duck or avoid it, or simply disagree and go away. Tell
them a story, though, and you invite them to come into a different
world; you invite them to share a world-view or better still a 'God-view'.
That, actually, is what the parables are all about. They offer, as
all genuine Christian story-telling the does, a world-view which,
as someone comes into it and finds how compelling it is, quietly
shatters the world-view that they were in already. Stories determine
how people see themselves and how they see the world. Stories determine
how they experience God, and the world, and themselves, and others.
Great revolutionary movements have told stories about the past and
present and future. They have invited people to see themselves in
that light, and people's lives have been changed. If that happens
at a merely human level, how much more when it is God himself, the
creator, breathing through his word.
Conclusion
There, then, is perhaps a more complex model of biblical authority
than some Christian traditions are used to. I have argued that the
phrase 'the authority of scripture' must be understood within the
context of God's authority, of which it is both a witness and, perhaps
more importantly, a vehicle. This is, I submit, a more dynamic model
of authority than some others on offer. I believe it is a view which
is substantially compatible with the Bible's own view (if one dare
sum up something so complex in such an over-simplification). In addition,
for what it may be worth, I believe that it is also in the deepest
sense a very Protestant view, however much it diverges from normal
Protestant opinion today; after all, it stresses the unique and unrepeatable
events of Jesus' life, death and resurrection, and it insists that
the Bible, not the books that we become so skilled at turning the
Bible into, is the real focus of authority. In addition, actually,
it is also in some senses a far more Catholic view than some others,
stressing the need for the community of Jesus' people to understand
itself and its tasks within thoroughly historical parameters. It
is also, now that we have started on this game, a more orthodox,
charismatic, and even liberal view than those which sometimes go
by those labels; but to spell all this out would be some-what tedious
and anyway, for our present purposes, unnecessary.
HOW CAN THE BIBLE FUNCTION AS AUTHORITATIVE?
But how, then, can scripture be properly used? How can it exercise
this authority? If God has delegated his authority somehow to this
book, what does he want us to do with it?
The Basis: Fundamentals and Overtones
History and Hermeneutics
How can we handle this extraordinary treasure, responsibly? First,
we have to let the Bible be the Bible in all its historical oddness
and otherness. We have again and again, not done that.
We have, again and again, allowed ourselves to say-I've heard myself
say it, over and over again-'What Paul is really getting at here
is . . . What Jesus was really meaning in this passage . . '-and
then, what has happened is a translation of something which is beautiful,
and fragile, and unique, into something which is commonplace and
boring, and every other Christian in the pew has heard it several
sermons before. I am reminded of that amazing line in Schaffer's
play Amadeus where Salieri sees on stage Mozart's Figaro, and he
says, 'He has taken ordinary people-chambermaids and servants and
barbers-and he has made them gods and heroes.' And then Salient remembers
his own operas and he says, 'I have taken gods and heroes-and I have
made them ordinary.' God forgive us that we have taken the Bible
and have made it ordinary-that we have cut it down to our size. We
have reduced it, so that whatever text we preach on it will say basically
the same things. This is particularly a problem for second- and third-generation
movements of which the rather tired and puzzled evangelicalism in
many British churches today is a good example. What we are seeing
in such preaching is not the authority of scripture at work, but
the authority of a tradition, or even a mere convention masquerading
as the authority of scripture-which is much worse, because it has
thereby lost the possibility of a critique or inbuilt self-correction
coming to it from scripture itself.
In Romans 15, by contrast, Paul says, 'That by patience and encouragement
of the scriptures you might have hope'; because scripture brings
God's order to God's world. And that order will forever be breaking
in as a new word, recognizably in continuity with words heard from
God before, but often in discontinuity even with the very traditions
by which those older fresh words were preserved and transmitted,
Scripture is the book that assures us that we are the people of God
when, again and again, we are tempted to doubt. Scripture is the
covenant book, not just in order that we can look up our pedigree
in it and see where We came from (Abraham and so on), but the book
through which the Spirit assures a that we are his people and through
which he sends us out into the world to tell the Jesus story, that
is, the Israel story which has become the Jesus story which together
is God's story for the world. And as we do that in the power of the
Spirit, the miracle is that it rings true and people out there in
the world know, in this or that fashion, that this strange story
which we are telling does in fact run deeper than the world's stories.
It does in fact tell them truths which they half-knew and had rather
hoped to forget. It is the story which confirms the fact that God
had redeemed the world in Jesus Christ. It is the story which breaks
open all other world-views and, by so doing, invites men and women,
young and old, to see this story as their story. In other words,
as we let the Bible be the Bible, God works through us-and it-to
do what he intends to do in and for the church and the world.
A model which suggests itself at this point-and this is More of
a mere illustration than the last one was-is that of the piano.
Sit
at a piano, hold down the loud pedal, strike a low note loudly, and
listen. You will hear all kinds of higher notes, harmonics, shimmering
above the note originally struck. In the same way, the retelling
of the story that the Bible actually contains is to function as the
striking of the low note, the basic fundamental note of God's story
with his world. As we retell this story there will be harmonics audible,
for those, at least, with ears to hear. The problem, of course, is
that historical criticism of the Bible has insisted on striking the
fundamental notes with the soft pedal on, as though by thus screening
out the harmonics it might ensure that the fundamental really made
its own point-and then Christians have grumbled that such criticism
makes the Bible irrelevant. The equal and opposite danger is that
pious Christians have only been interested in the harmonics themselves,
and then by actually striking them instead of the fundamentals have
produced a narrower range of tone, making up in shrillness what it
lacks in historical depth and basic substance.
Story and Hermeneutic: Living in the Fifth Act
In the church and in the world, then, we have to tell the story,
It is not enough to translate scripture into timeless truths. How
easy it has been for theologians and preachers to translate the gospels
(for instance) into something more like epistles! We must, if anything,
assimilate the epistles to the gospels rather than vice versa. I
would not actually recommend that, but if you were going to make
a mistake that would be the direction to do it in. And as we tell
the story-the story of Israel, the story of Jesus, the story of the
early church-that itself is an act of worship. That is why, within
my tradition, the reading of scripture is not merely ancillary to
worship-something to prepare for the sermon-but it is actually, itself,
part of the rhythm of worship itself. The church in reading publicly
the story of God is praising God for his mighty acts, and is celebrating
them, and is celebrating the fact that she is part of that continuous
story. And, that story as we use it in worship reforms our God-view-our
world-view--reconstitutes us as the church. The story has to be told
as the new covenant story. This is where my five-act model comes
to our help again. The earlier parts of the story are to be told
precisely as the earlier parts of the story. We do not read Genesis
I and 2 as though the world were still like that; we do not read
Genesis 3 as though ignorant of Genesis 12, of Exodus, or indeed
of the gospels. Nor do we read the gospels us though we were ignorant
of the fact that they are written precisely in order to make the
transition from Act 4 to Act 5, the Act in which we are now living
and in which we are to make our own unique, unscripted and yet obedient,
improvisation. This is how we are to be the church, for the world.
As we do so, we are calling into question the world's models of authority,
as well as the content and direction of that authority.
So, we have to tell the story within the world and the church; because
the church is always in danger of getting too like the world. I have
already said that this happens in relation to authority; we use the
world's authority models instead of the God-given authority models.
And scripture demands, in fact, to be read in the context of traditions
within the church, precisely in order that it may judge and redeem
the traditions of the church. Not that it may bl-under them: the
traditions are second-order stories, the stories that you and I tell
about who we are as Christians, which go back through Wesley and
Whitefield or through Luther or Aquinas or whoever. These are the
stones that form the grid through which we read scripture; we can't
do without them, but they need regular checking. And part of my whole
argument here is that evangelical traditions needs checking just
as well as anybody else's, checking according to scripture itself.
We then have to allow the story to challenge our traditions, not
to get rid of traditions but in order to see where we've come from,
and who we are as the people of God in the 20th century, and to reshape
on, traditions honestly and properly. But, also, we must allow scripture
to stretch our reason back into shape. We must allow scripture to
teach us how to think straight, because by ourselves we don't; we
think bent, we think crooked. Gerard Manley Hopkins said, 'The Holy
Spirit over the bent world broods with warm breast and with Ah! bright
wings.' And the Spirit broods over us as we read this book, to straighten
out our bent thinking; the world-views that have got twisted so that
they are like the world's world-views. God wants us to be people,
not puppets; to love him with our mind as well as our soul and our
strength. And it is scripture that enables us to do that, not by
crushing us into an alien mould but by giving us the fully authoritative
four acts, and the start of the fifth, which set us free to become
the church afresh in each generation.
Biblical Authority and the Church's Task
The Challenge to the world's authority structures and concepts
The church is not made so that there can be a safe ghetto into which
people can run and escape from the world, but so that God can shine
out his light into the world, exposing (among other things) the ways
in which the world has structured itself into darkness. And this
is relevant to the concepts of authority themselves, The Bible is
a living witness to the fact that there is a different sort of authority,
a different sort of power, to that which is recognized in the world
of politics, business, government, or even the academy. Do you know
that moment in Jesus Christ Superstar where the crowds are coming
into Jerusalem and the disciples are all singing, 'Hosanna, Hosanna'.
And one of the zealots says to Jesus, Come on, you ride in ahead
of us and you'll get the power and the glory for ever and ever and
ever.' And Jesus turns round and says, 'Neither you, Simon, nor the
50,000, nor the Romans, nor the Jews, nor Judas, nor the twelve,
nor the priests, nor the scribes, nor doomed Jerusalem herself, understand
what power is, understand what power is.' And then he proceeds to
weep over Jerusalem and prophesy its destruction; and then he goes,
steadily through the following week, to his enthronement on Calvary,
which with hindsight the church realizes to be the place where all
power, all real power, is congregated.
The world needs to see that there is a different model of authority.
Because the world needs to know that there is a different God. When
the world says, 'God' it doesn't mean what you and I mean by God.
It doesn't mean the Father of the Lord Jesus Christ. It means either
a pantheist god: the god of all-being, a sort of nature god. Or,
it means a deist-god way up in the sky who started off by being a
landlord, then became an absentee landlord, and now is just an absentee.
We have to tell the world again, that the God who is in authority
over in- world, the God who speaks through scripture, is the Father
of Jesus, the God who sends the Spirit. And, therefore, we have to
announce to the world the story of scripture.
This is how the gospels are to become authoritative. They are to
become authoritative because, as they tell the story of who Jesus
was for Israel in judging and redeeming Israel, so we continue that
story--this is the great message of Luke, is it not-in being for
the world what Jesus was for Israel. That is how the translation
works. And that is why we need narrative, not timeless truth. I'm
not a timeless person; I've got a story. The world's not a timeless
world; it's got a story. And I've got a responsibility, armed with
scripture, to tell in- world God's story, through song and in speech,
in drama and in art. We must do this by telling whatever parables
are appropriate. That may well not be by standing on street corners
reading chunks of scripture. It might be much more appropriate to
go off and write a novel (and not a 'Christian' novel where half
the characters are Christians and all the other half become Christians
on the last page) but a novel which grips people with the structure
of Christian thought, and with Christian motivation set deep into
the heart and structure of the narrative, so that people would read
that and resonate with it and realize that that story can be my story.
After all, the story of the Bible, and the power that it possesses,
is a better story than any of the power games that we play in our
world. We must tell this story, and let it exercise its power in
the world.
And that is the task of the whole church. Need I say, not merely
of the professional caste within it-although those who are privileged,
whether by being given gifts of study by God, or by being set apart
with particular time (as I have been) to study scripture, do have
a special responsibility to make sure that they are constantly living
in the story for themselves, constantly being the scripture people
themselves, in order to encourage the church to be that sort of people,
again not for its own sake but for the sake of the world.
The Challenge to the World's World-View
When we tell the whole story of the Bible, and tell it (of course)
not just by repeating it parrot-fashion but by articulating it in
a thousand different ways, improvising our own faithful versions,
we are inevitably challenging more than just one aspect of the world's
way of looking at things (i.e. its view of authority and power).
We are undermining its entire view of what the world is, and is for,
and are offering, in the best way possible, a new world-view, which
turns out (of course) to be a new God-view. We are articulating a
viewpoint according to which there is one God, the creator of all
that is, who not only made the world but is living and active within
it (in opposition to the dualism and/or deism which clings so closely,
even to much evangelical tradition), who is also transcendent over
it and deeply grieved by its fall away from goodness into sin (in
opposition to the pantheism which always lurks in the wings, and
which has made a major new entry in the so-called New Age movement-and
which often traps Christians who are in a mode of reaction against
dualism or deism). This story about the World and its creator will
function as an invitation to participate in the story oneself, to
make it one's own, and to do so by turning away from the idols which
prevent the story becoming one's own, and by worshipping instead
the God revealed as the true God. Evangelism and the summons injustice
and mercy in society are thus one and the same, and both are effected
by the telling of the story, the authoritative story, which works
by its own power irrespective of the technique of the storyteller.
Once again, we see that the church's task is to be the people who,
like Micaiah, stand humbly before God in order then to stand boldly
before men.
Biblical Authority and the Church's Life
I shall be briefer about this aspect, though it could be spelt out
in considerable detail-and probably needs to be if the church is
to be really healthy, and not go through a barren ritual of reading
the Bible but getting nothing out of it that cannot be reduced to
terms of what she already knows. The purpose of the church's life
is to be the people of God for the world: a city set on a hill cannot
be hidden. But the church can only be this if in her own life she
is constantly being recalled to the story and message of scripture,
without which she will herself lapse into the world's ways of thinking
(as is done in the evangelical dualism, for example, that perpetuates
the split between religion and politics invented by the fairly godless
eighteenth century).
How is this to be done? The church in her public
worship uses lectionaries-at least, if she does not, she runs the
grave risk of revolving, as
C S Lewis pointed out, round the little treadmill of favorite passages,
of 'desert island texts', and muzzling the terrible and wonderful
things that scripture really has to say. But even in the lectionaries
there are problems; because at least those that are common
Bible today do their own fair share of muzzling, missing out crucial
passages in order to keep the readings short, omitting verses that
might shock modern Western sensibilities, The Bible is to be in the
bloodstream of the church's worship, but at the moment the bloodstream
is looking fairly watery, We must reform the lectionaries, and give
to the church creative and positive ways of reading scripture, and
hearing it read, which will enable this book to be once again the
fully authoritative covenant charter.
In private reading, and in informal group meetings, we need again
to experiment with new ways of reading scripture. Anyone who has
heard an entire biblical book read, or even acted (think of Alec
McCown on Mark, or Paul Alexander on John; I have heard the same
done with Galatians, and very impressive it was, too) will realize
that such things as chapter-divisions, or almost any divisions at
all, can be simply unhelpful. We need to recapture a sense of scripture
as a whole, telling and retelling stories as wholes. Only when you
read Exodus as a whole (for example) do you realize the awful irony
whereby the making of the golden calf is a parody of what God wanted
the people to do with their gold and jewels . . . and only by reading
Mark as a whole might you realize that, when the disciples ask to
sit at Jesus' right and left hand, they are indeed asking for something
they do not understand.
It is perhaps the half-hearted and sometimes quite miserable traditions
of reading the Bible-even among whose who claim to take it seriously-that
account for the very low level of biblical knowledge and awareness
even among some church leaders and those with delegated responsibility.
And this is the more lamentable in that the Bible ought to be functioning
as authoritative within church debates, What happens all too often
is that the debate is conducted without reference to the Bible (until
a rabid fundamentalist stands up and waves it around, confirming
the tacit agreement of everyone else to give it a wide berth). Rather,
serious engagement is required, at every level from the personal
through to the group Bible-study, to the proper liturgical use, to
the giving of time in synods and councils to Bible exposition and
study. Only so will the church avoid the trap of trying to address
the world and having nothing to say but the faint echo of what the
world itself has been saying for some while.
If we really engage with the Bible in this serious way we will
find, I believe, that we will be set free from (among other things)
some
of the small-scale evangelical paranoia which goes on about scripture.
We won't be forced into awkward corners, answering impossible questions
of the 'Have you stopped beating your wife?' variety about whether
scripture is exactly this or exactly that. Of course the Bible is
inspired, and if you're using it like this there won't be any question
in your mind that the Bible is inspired. But, you will be set free
to explore ways of articulating that belief which do not fall into
the old rationalist traps of 18th or 19th or 20th century. Actually
using the Bible in this way is a far sounder thing than mouthing
lots of words beginning with ‘in—‘ but still imprisoning
the Bible within evangelical tradition (which is what some of those
'in—‘ words seem almost designed to do). Of course you
will discover that the Bible will not let you down. You will be paying
attention to it; you won't be sitting in judgment over it. But you
won't come with a preconceived notion of what this or that passage
has to mean if it is to be true. You will discover that God is speaking
new truth through it. I take it as a method in my biblical studies
that if I turn a corner and find myself saying, 'Well, in that case,
that verse is wrong' that I must have turned a wrong corner somewhere.
But that does not mean that I impose what I think is right on to
that bit of the Bible. It means, instead, that I am forced to live
with that text uncomfortably, sometimes literally for years (this
is sober autobiography), until suddenly I come round a different
corner and that verse makes a lot of sense; sense that I wouldn't
have got if I had insisted on imposing my initial view on it from
day one.
The Bible, clearly, is also to be used in a thousand different
ways within the pastoral work of the church, the caring and
building up
of all its members. Again, there is much that I could say here,
but little space. Suffice it to note that the individual world-views
and God-views of Christians, as much as anybody else, need to be
constantly adjusted and straightened out in the light of the story
which is told in scripture. But this is not to say that there is
one, or even that there are twenty-one, 'right' ways of this being
done. To be sure, the regular use of scripture in private and public
worship is a regular medicine for many of the ills that beset us,
But there are many methods of meditation, of imaginative reading,
ways of soaking oneself in a book or a text, ways of allowing the
story to become one's own story in all sorts of intimate ways,
that
can with profit be recommended by a pastor, or engaged in within
the context of pastoral ministry itself. Here, too, we discover
the authority of the Bible at work: God's own authority, exercised
not
to give true information about wholeness but to give wholeness
itself, by judging and remaking the thoughts and intentions,
the imaginations
and remembering, of men, women and children, There are worlds to
be discovered here of which a good deal of the church remains sadly
ignorant. The Bible is the book of personal renewal, the book of
tears and laughter, the book through which God resonates with our
pain and joy, and enables us to resonate with his pain and joy.
This is the really powerful authority of the Bible, to be distinguished
from the merely manipulative or the crassly confrontational 'use'
of scripture.
CONCLUSION
I have argued that the notion of the 'authority of scripture' is
a shorthand expression for God's authority, exercised somehow through
scripture; that scripture must be allowed to be itself in exercising
its authority, and not be turned into something else which might
fit better into what the church, or the world, might have thought
its 'authority' should look like; that it is therefore the meaning
of 'authority' itself, not that of scripture, that is the unknown
in the equation, and that when this unknown is discovered it challenges
head on the various notions and practices of authority endemic
in the world and, alas, in the church also. I have suggested, less
systematically,
some ways in which this might be put into practice. All of this
has been designed as a plea to the church to let the Bible be the
Bible,
and so to let God be God-and so to enable the people of God to
be the people of God, his special people, living under his authority,
bringing his light to his world. The Bible is not an end in itself.
It is there so that, by its proper use, the creator may be glorified
and the creation may be healed. It is our task to be the people
through
whom this extraordinary vision comes to pass. We are thus entrusted
with a privilege too great for casual handling, too vital to remain
a mere matter of debate.
So what am I saying? I am saying that we mustn't belittle scripture
by bringing the world's models of authority into it. We must
let scripture be itself, and that is a hard task. Scripture
contains
many things that I don't know, and that you don't know; many
things we are waiting to discover; passages which are lying
dormant waiting
for us to dig them out. Awaken them. We must then make sure that
the church, armed in this way, is challenging the world's view
of authority. So that, we must determine--corporately as well
as individually-to
become in a true sense, people of the book. Not people of the
book in the Islamic sense, where this book just drops down
and crushes
people and you say it's the will of Allah, and I don't understand
it, and I can't do anything about it. But, people of the book
in the Christian sense; people who are being remade, judged
and remolded
by the Spirit through scripture. It seems to me that evangelical
tradition has often become in bondage to a sort of lip-service
scripture principle even while debating in fact how many angels
can dance on
the head of a pin. (Not literally, but there are equivalents
in our tradition.) Instead, I suggest that our task is to seize
this
privilege
with both hands, and use it to the gory of God and the redemption
of the world.
|